The Prodigal Son
by thatTWWgirl
Summary: Noah Lyman is always looking for reasons to pressure his son into visiting more often. Two fall into his lap at the same time; the positive, a budding romance; the negative, his resurfacing illness.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey there, babes!**

 **As you can see, I've started a new story. I had first thought of doing it as a chapter in _Inevitable_ , but it soon grew way beyond that. This is a "long haul" kind of story - it's set over the course of a few months, and I don't expect to wrap it up too quickly.**

 **This is just a little intro, to peak your interest. Let me know what you guys think, and if you're interested in me continuing this!**

 **Rating: T for now**

 **Reviews: Pssssh. Not like I've got a tender ego in need of constant affirmation or anything...**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I'm far more invested than their creators, actually. They'd probably think I'm crazy.**

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"The prosecutor can see you at three."

"Fantastic."

"Do you want me to come?"

Noah sighs. "No, I'll be fine. You should stay and comb through the discovery files."

"You've already done that."

"I'm old. You should do it again."

"Okay. If you think we need to."

"Hey. Guess who gets in today?"

Donna notes the dramatic change in her boss's tone. "Who?"

"My son."

"Josh?"

"No. My other, secret son."

"Okay, okay. That's nice."

"Have you met him before?"

"No, but from what you've told me, I feel like I already have."

"What have I told you?"

"That he works for John Hoynes, he's a world class political mind, and he has an infuriating aversion to giving you grandchildren."

Noah waves a hand. "He's not working for that clown anymore."

"He's not working for Hoynes?"

"No, he quit last week. He's working for Jed Bartlet."

"...who?"

"You know who he is."

"Well, I do, but my point is that few others do."

"Jed Bartlet is a good man."

"Jed Bartlet isn't an electable man."

"Just you wait and see, Donna. My son is going to change all of that."

"You seem to have a lot of faith in him."

"Yeah, but don't tell him that when he shows up. I want to knock him around a bit."

"That's fatherly of you."

He ignores her. "I think you'll like Josh."

"Really?"

"Yes. He is related to me, after all."

"Is he much like you?"

"We have some similarities."

"Such as?"

"We both work too much."

"Ah. A winning quality."

"He's more talkative than I am."

"More talkative than you, sir? I find that hard to believe."

"I resent that sarcasm, Ms. Moss."

"It took you a month to say more than 'Hey you, hand me that file' to me."

"I don't waste words."

"Of course not, sir."

"You know what else? The kid refuses to wear three piece suits."

Donna puts a hand over her heart. " _Your_ son?"

"And no pocket squares, either."

"But you have such a wide variety to loan him."

"I've told him, you must dress sharply to be taken seriously. And what does he wear? Suits two sizes too big, that look like he's slept in them."

"Next you'll tell me he doesn't carry a pocket watch."

Noah levels his gaze at her over his glasses. "I don't carry a pocket watch."

"It was a joke."

He frowns. "But that's not even the worst part, Donnatella."

"You're really talking him up, here, sir."

"He doesn't carry a brief case. He carries a backpack."

"A... Backpack?"

"When he graduated from law school, I gave him a fine, handcrafted leather briefcase. And what does he carry his things in? A Jansport backpack. Like he's still in college."

"Are you going to get me a briefcase when I graduate?"

"I'm sorry, are you related to me?"

"I like to think we've developed a certain kinship, sir."

"You can have his briefcase. He never uses it."

"I'll mention that to him."

"He's also hardly ever on time."

"What? But punctuality is your favorite P word, right after principle."

"Are you mocking the three Ps of legal work, Donna?"

"Of course not, sir. I'm thinking of having Principle, Punctuality, and Perserverance tattooed on myself."

"Good."

"So he's always late?"

"He takes after his mother that way."

"Wasn't your wife an accountant?"

"Yes, why?"

"I'd always thought of accountants as, well, a punctual people."

"In general, sure. But my wife? She'll be late to her own funeral."

"I quite like your wife, sir."

"Most people do. She's very talkative. Which partially explains the tardiness."

"So Josh and Ruth are the same in those regards?"

"No one is as talkative as Ruth. And he's late because he's absent-minded, not because he's personable."

"Is he personable?"

"That's debatable."

"You're describing quite the character, you know."

"I do think you'll like him."

"And why is that?"

"He's single, you know."

"Sir. I'm not going to give you grandchildren."

"I didn't suggest anything of the sort."

"Of course not."

"He said he'd be here around three. So we can reasonably expect him around four."

"What if you're still at your meeting?"

"I'm sure you two could find things to talk about."

"I'll be busy. I have course work, you know, even if I finish the discovery files. He can talk to Phil."

"Yes, well. Whatever suits you." Something tells him she'd find herself distracted.

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At around 3:45 that afternoon, Donna has long since finished the discovery files and is immersed in her constitutional law textbook. She looks up only when someone stops in front of her desk.

"Excuse me."

She takes another ten seconds to finish reading a sentence, and then drags her eyes upward. She finds herself gazing up at the subject of many of her boss's desk photos. "Yes?"

"Is he in?" The man (who she will have trouble thinking of as anything but Noah's "kid") gestures to his father's office door. "I knocked, but..."

She hadn't noticed. "No, he's at a meeting."

"Ah. Right."

"You must be Josh."

"Yeah."

"Of the Jansport backpack and no grandchildren."

"What?" He narrows his eyes, which bear a passing resemblance to his father's.

"Just that, that's what he's told me about you. That you carry a backpack, and you have an extreme aversion to giving him grandchildren."

"What else has he told you?"

"That you work for Jed Bartlet. And that I could have your briefcase."

"You could have my what?"

"Your briefcase. That he gave you at graduation. He said I could have it, because you never use it."

"That does sound like him." He mutters. "Anyway. Who are you?"

"I'm Donna Moss."

"And you're...?"

"I work here."

"I gathered that."

"I'm an intern."

"You're the Yale Law intern?"

"Correct."

"I went to Yale Law, you know."

"I do know."

"Well. Okay."

"I've also seen your baby pictures."

"What?"

"Your baby pictures. On your mother's fridge. I've seen them."

"That's a really strange thing to bring up in conversation."

She shrugs. "I thought it was relevant."

"Any idea when he'll be back?"

"No." She looks back down at her book. "You can wait in his office. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

He stands there for a moment, considering. Eventually, he shrugs off his backpack and coat. "Can I wait out here?"

"If you have a strong desire to do so."

"Are you busy?"

"No, this is leisure reading."

"Con Law?"

"Yeah."

"I loved Con Law."

"Fascinating."

"Shouldn't you be working?"

"I finished my work."

"All of it?"

"Can I ask you something?"

He's taken aback by her finally making eye contact with him. Her eyes were rather off-putting, actually. "Sure."

"Why are you working for Jed Bartlet? You've gotta know he won't win. Why'd you jump ship on Hoynes?"

He looks around for a chair, and drags one across from her desk. She raises her eyebrows.

"This explanation is going to take a while?"

He ignores her and takes a seat. "There's this concept called principle, Donna."

"You're father's a big believer in that concept, too."

"I'm not working for Hoynes because I don't think he should be President. I'm working for Bartlet because I do think he should be President. It's that simple."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes. Okay. That's a valid answer."

"A valid answer? Okay, give it up."

"Okay. Here's my thing. At what point are your principles compromised if you weaken the Democratic candidate to the point that the other side wins?"

"What if we win?"

"What if you don't?"

"Hoynes should be kept honest. He needs to be checked. No one should be able to waltz into the convention unscathed. You need to debate ideas. You need to have conversations you don't want to have. And we're forcing him to do that."

"You're not forcing him to do that yet. He hasn't agreed to debate you. And I doubt he's considering it at this point, given that you're polling at, what, ten percent?"

"Eleven percent."

"Oh, excuse me."

"So then what are you arguing? We're not weakening the presumptive nominee at all."

"Not yet."

"So you have faith?"

"Jed Bartlet's a good man."

"He is."

"And he can give a speech like no one else."

"That's true."

"I think he might get somewhere."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"I never said that."

"I'm feeling a little lost."

"I was just curious about your motives. That's all." She shrugs.

Josh considers the girl before him. She's a change from his father's usual fare: male, and Jewish. It's not that he's a sexist, or really discriminatory at all. He just had a fondness for choosing those he "saw himself" in. That, and the applicant pool was generally comprised of... Well, Jewish men. But he'd chosen her: this blonde, animated girl. He wonders what he'd seen in her. "Who are you voting for?"

She opens her mouth in incredulity. "You can't ask me that."

"Sure I can."

She bites her lip. "I haven't decided yet."

"Yes you have."

"Excuse me?"

"You're lying."

"I want you to sell me on Jed Bartlet."

"Even though you've already decided to vote for Hoynes?"

"No. Even though I've already decided to vote for Bartlet."

"...You've lost me."

"I'm saying, I'm sold. But I would've liked to hear what you had to say if I wasn't."

"Why?"

"Because a lot of people out there aren't sold. And I'm wondering what you tell them."

Josh shakes his head, befuddled. "So this is all... Hypothetical?"

"Yes."

"Did my father put you up to this?"

Her eyes widen. "No."

"He didn't?"

"Actually, he'd probably be mad that I'm doing this. He wants to razz you about Bartlet himself."

He smiles. "Ah, now that sounds about right."

"So. Convince me."

"Convince you of what?"

"Convince me to vote for Jed Bartlet."

"You're already voting for Jed Bartlet."

"You're really very slow."

Just as he's opening his mouth for some incredulous reply, the double doors to the office swing open, revealing a harried sixty-something in a three piece suit. "Donna, could you-" he stops abruptly, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Joshua!"

"Dad!" A dimpled grin splits his face as he rises from his seat to hug his father.

Donna must admit, the sight of her normally stoic boss embracing his son does warm her heart a little bit.

"How was your flight?" Noah asks upon releasing him.

"Not bad."

"I see you've met my capable young intern, Ms. Moss."

"Oh yeah. We met." He says with a wry grin.

She could be imagining it, but she thinks there's a slight sparkle in Noah's eye as he looks between them. "You look tired." He admonishes, returning his gaze to his son.

"I've been busy."

"Ah, yes. How is that doomed, Quixotic campaign of yours?"

Josh rolls his eyes. "It's good. I mean, we're in a good place. To start. In a few months-"

"You'll all be packing your bags and selling the campaign office."

"No faith in me, huh?"

"You, those other rag tag youngsters. Leo. How is he, by the way?"

"Good. Probably less so once he hears you're expecting him to fail."

Noah waves a hand dismissively. "He knows I expect him to fail."

"You were a real help during the twelve steps, weren't you?"

He chuckles. "I'm only having some fun. I expect you to lay out your entire fifty state plan for me over dinner tonight."

"If you're going to be a consultant, let them pay you."

"You've got the money for me?"

"No."

"Ah, as I thought."

Josh shakes his head at his father's antics. "Anyway, how are you? Been feeling okay?"

"Oh, fine. Just fine."

"Good. That's good."

"Yes." Noah acknowledges brusquely. "So, have you been to see your mother yet?"

Donna narrows her eyes at her boss suspiciously. He seemed uncomfortable with the subject of his health, avoiding his son's gaze.

"Nah, this was on the way home. Figured I'd stop by and help out for a couple hours, then head out with you."

"I have perfectly capable staff, you know."

Josh aims a smirk at the intern watching their conversation. "Yes, I'm sure."

Donna rolls her eyes.

"You could help Donna with the assignment I'm about to give her, actually." Donna opens her mouth to protest, but isn't quick enough. "Pull all of the case files from June twelfth. Then see what connections you can draw to last week's deposition. It'll be slim if there is anything, but I've got an inkling it'll help us with Monday's cross examination."

"You got it." Josh turns to face her, still wearing the same annoying smirk.

"But, sir." Donna begins in a plaintive tone. "He doesn't know the case at all. He'll have no context, and he'll slow me down with having to explain it to him."

"He's a bright kid. He'll pick it up. You won't ask stupid questions, will you Josh?"

"No. But, say, what's a deposition?

Noah smiles, but Donna is unimpressed. "Sir. He'll distract me."

"Oh, will I, now?"

Noah shakes his head, amused. "I'll be in my office, Donnatella. Have it on my desk by five."

She sighs in defeat. "Yes, sir." She mutters as he retreats.

"So. Let's get to it, then."

She gives him a withering look, but before long, it changes to a malicious grin. "You know what? That sounds great. And while we pull the files, you can attempt to sell me on Jed Bartlet."

He opens his mouth in incredulity. "But, I-"

"Ah ah. You heard what your father said about stupid questions."

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"Did you boys have a good time at the office?" Ruth asks casually over dinner.

"Yes, we did. I think Joshua had a particularly good time." Noah says slyly.

His son gives him a look. "I would've, if you hadn't sicked your little legalese Barbie on me."

Ruth furrows her brow. "What?"

"The intern. Trailing me all over the place, asking me questions about Bartlet. Grilling me on my knowledge of obscure precedents and legal terms."

"I believe it was you trailing her, actually."

Josh doesn't look up at his father's interruption, continuing around a mouthful of food. "As if anyone knows as much inane information as she does. She kept getting in digs about me not passing the bar, would you believe that?"

Noah forces back a grin. Yes, he would believe that. "Well, you _didn't_ pass the bar."

"I didn't take it!"

"Against my advice."

"Are you talking about Donna Moss?" Ruth interrupts, before Josh can get in a retort.

"Yeah. Her."

"Oh, I love her! She's such a sweetheart."

Josh looks at his mother skeptically. "You're sure we're talking about the same person?"

"The intern, yes? Blonde? Yes, your father and I have had her over for dinner quite a few times. Nice girl. Smart, too."

"I agree." Noah declares.

"And very pretty, I might add."

Josh ignores this. "Why'd you hire her, anyway?"

"Because she's good at her job."

"Well, sure, but there must've been other applicants. And she's so different from what you normally go with."

"She made an impression in the interview."

"I'm sure she did." He mutters.

"Joshua, you wouldn't happen to be implying that I hired my intern as eye candy for the office, would you?"

"What? No!" He says quickly. "No, of course not, I didn't mean-" He meets his father's gaze to find he's merely teasing him. "You're the worst."

"Well, what did you mean?"

"I just meant... You always hire people you 'see yourself in,' or whatever."

"Yes. Yes, well."

"You're kidding."

"She reminds me of myself when I was younger."

"How?" He asks incredulously. He couldn't think of anyone more different from his reserved, steadfast father than the quirk he'd met that afternoon.

"Her passion for legal work."

"...What?"

"She's all about the human side of it. The morality. The fighting for someone's rights, even on a small scale basis. I've lost sight of that as I've aged, but... Yes. That is the reason I became a lawyer in the first place, and that is why I hired her. To remind me of that. Now, does that suffice?"

Josh considers his interactions with the woman in question earlier that afternoon. She'd backed up many of her points (through some very interesting, backwards logic) with human examples; tall tales of family farmers or steel workers. He smiles slightly. "Yeah, okay. I get it."

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"Was yesterday's report helpful?"

"Yes, it was. Thank you."

"Of course." Donna lingers in the doorway, hoping he'll bring up the person who'd "helped" her with the report. No such luck.

"Is there something I can help you with, Donna?"

"I was just wondering if your son was coming in today." Knowing how he'll interpret this, she braces herself.

"He is, yes. He's spending time with Ruth, but he'll be in for a few hours before his flight leaves."

"Ah."

He looks up at her, and she receives the muted mirthful look she'd anticipated. "Why? Do you want to see him again?"

She scoffs. "Hardly."

"No? You two seemed quite engaged with each other yesterday."

"We were arguing, sir."

"He had plenty to say about you last night."

"I'm sure he did." She says haughtily, trying to appear as though this news is of little consequence to her.

"Admit it. You liked him, didn't you?" His voice borders on prideful.

Annoyed with his surety, she frowns. "Actually, I found him insufferable."

Noah furrows his brow. "Hey. Watch yourself, he's my son."

"That's fair, because I find you insufferable sometimes, too."

"Oh?"

She stumbles to find an answer that will distract from herself, and realizes she has a very legitimate one. "Like when you won't take one day off. Not one! Not even a half day."

He sighs. "Is this about next week?"

"Yes, it's about next week."

"I've told you, I'll be fine. And if you attempt to lighten my schedule, I'll fire you."

"I'm impervious."

"You're not."

"Sir. You know how much treatment took out of you last time. You can't expect to keep going at full speed once the chemo starts again."

He looks up at her sharply. "I'll ask you to keep your voice down, Ms. Moss."

"Why? Everyone in the office knows about your relapse, sir, you brought it up at the staff meeting last month."

"I know that I brought it up at the meeting, Donna." He snaps.

She's taken aback by his tone. "I'm sorry, sir. But then... Why are we keeping our voices down?"

"It's... Never mind."

She narrows her eyes. "You know, when you told me your son was coming, I assumed it would be for your first treatment."

"No, he won't be there for that. His flight is today." He repeats.

"I know, but what I'm asking, sir, is... Does Josh know about your relapse?"

He doesn't look at her, staring down at a brief with a dour expression. "Now that you mention it, he does not."

"He doesn't?"

"No."

"Well, excuse me, sir, but why the hell not?"

"I will ask you again to keep your voice down."

"Sir, why haven't you told your son?" She repeats in a low, appalled whisper. Her change in volume does little to lessen the impact of her words.

"Because I don't want to worry him." He says tersely. "He has a lot on his plate."

"Sir, he's a grown man. I think he can handle it."

"I'm sure that he can."

"So tell him!"

"I'm hoping it will clear up on it's own. And by then, I won't even need to tell him."

"What are you going to tell him when your hair starts falling out again?"

"It's much easier, you know, to tell someone when you're in remission. To have them celebrate with you. But this..."

"I know it's hard, sir." She acknowledges gently. "But he deserves to know."

"I thought you didn't even like him. And now you're telling me what he does and doesn't deserve to know?"

"This isn't a question of liking him, it's about-"

"This doesn't involve you, Donna." He interrupts coldly. "You are an excellent worker, and for that I am grateful, but you are _not_ a member of my family. You have no business butting into my personal affairs, so I'll thank you to stay out of them."

Taken aback by the harshness of his voice, she falters. "Oh, I... Okay. I'll go."

The hurt in her eyes jars him out of his agitation. "No, Donna, wait." He sighs.

She pauses in his doorway, arms folded tightly to her chest. "What?"

"Please. Come back in. Shut the door."

Still not looking at him, she does as requested.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"It's okay." She says softly.

"It's not. You know how valuable I find you, don't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you know how much Ruth and I care for you, yes?"

This forces a small smile out of her. She nods.

"Good. I really am sorry."

"Okay."

"The reason I haven't told Josh about my relapse is because I don't want him to feel obligated to me."

Donna furrows her brow. "You're his father. He'll always feel obligated to you."

"Yes, but, I don't want him coming home out of guilt anymore than he already does."

"Guilt? Sir, I don't-"

"He thinks he killed his sister."

Donna gapes at him, completely floored by this declaration. "He _what_?"

"You know about my daughter, yes? Ruth told you?" He says, having returned to the usual briskness he used when dealing with anything that could be considered serious or sentimental.

"Well, yes, sir."

"He blames himself for the fire."

"But... He was a little boy." She says softly, aghast at the thought that someone could shoulder something like that for so long.

"I know that. And I'm sure that, on a logical basis, he knows that as well. But he feels the need to make up for the fact that he's only one child, and not two. He goes out of his way. He's dealt with that pressure for a very long time, and I just wouldn't want to add to it." Noah says resolutely, masking any emotion he is feeling with an exaggeration of his usual gruffness.

She bites her lip. "I doubt he'd want you to protect him that way, sir."

"You're probably right." He admits.

"So you'll tell him?"

"Yes. I will tell him this afternoon, before he leaves."

"You've made the right choice."

"When this all goes south, you'll be the one I blame it on, I'll have you know."

"I should think so, sir." She smiles.

"Now, get out. I'm very busy." He says brusquely, gaze returning to the brief on his desk. His voice has regained its usual warmth, however.

"Of course."

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 **Isn't this cute? I think it's cute.**

 **I know I've got quite a few balls in the air, but I'll try to keep them all going :) I'm trying to wrap up _Nine Kinds of Pain_ before the end of the Holiday season, so that should help. **

**Let me know what you guys think! Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: At long last, here it is! Chapter two. I'm so excited to delve into and devote some time to this story.**

 **I want to thank you all for your reviews - there were so many! I mean, wow. You guys are so great. Everyone was wonderful and encouraging. I'm so glad you're all excited. I am too :)**

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When her boss's son strolls into the office later that day, Donna is less able to stay immersed in her work than she'd been the day before. He's on the phone, which he has pressed between his ear and shoulder to account for the three cups of coffee he's carrying. He doesn't bother to ask before setting these down on her desk.

"Hey!"

He ignores her. "No, CJ, just pivot back to the education plan if they ask. Highlights only. You can't linger on that question, Hoynes has us on depth as far as that goes and he knows it. He's baiting you. Trust me, I was helping craft that line last week. Yeah, sorry about that one."

She tries not to notice that he's wearing jeans today, which, unlike his suits, are definitely not two sizes too big. She focuses on glaring pointedly at him.

"Yeah, okay. Tell Leo to call me when he gets done. I'll meet you there tonight. Okay. Bye." He pockets his phone and finally notices her withering stare. "Well, good morning to you too."

"It's two pm."

"Somebody's testy. Maybe you don't need any coffee."

She brightens considerably. "One of these is for me?"

"Not anymore." He mutters.

"Aw, you shouldn't have!" She beams. She is starting to run on empty, and she had a paper due by five.

"I didn't. My dad called and asked me to stop. Apparently he's apologizing to you for something." He says, somewhat curiously.

"Ah." She smiles at Noah's thoughtfulness. She decides not to satiate Josh's curiosity about his father's transgression.

He continues to look at her. "Yeah, my father can be a bit... Abrupt."

"Runs in the family, apparently."

"Ha, ha."

"Which one's mine?"

He looks down at the coffees with a lost expression. "Uhh..."

"You forgot when you set them down, didn't you?"

"It's possible." He says defensively.

"Right." She removes the lids. "Okay, black for your father, this one seems normal, and this one appears to have more cream than coffee in it."

"That's mine." He snatches it from her desk hastily, and she looks up at him in amusement.

"Okay. Thanks for the coffee."

"Yeah." He grabs his father's coffee too. "See you later."

She feels the sudden urge to delay him from going into Noah's office. He looks so unconcerned, cheerful even. She doesn't want to see his day ruined. But remembering that she's the one that sealed his fate, she knows she has to let him go. He deserves to know, as she'd so self righteously told her boss that morning.

She drops her eyes to her desk. "Okay. Bye."

It's not even ten minutes later when Noah emerges from his office, looking flustered. He brushes past Donna's desk, not stopping as he throws out, "I've got a meeting."

"You do?" She calls out in surprise.

"Yes." He says distractedly.

"Thanks for the coffee, by the way."

"What? Oh, yes. Of course."

She looks up from her paper curiously at his tone, only to see his retreating back as he leaves the office as quickly as possible. Donna furrows her brow and glances over to his quiet office, from which Josh has yet to emerge.

With a sinking feeling, she gets up slowly from her desk and makes her way to the closed door. She knocks once, to no response, before letting herself in.

Her boss's son sits in one of the visitor's chairs, staring straight ahead. It takes him a few seconds to notice her presence. He turns around to look at her, wide eyes filled with obvious shock.

"Hi." She greets lamely. _That bastard_ , she says internally.

"Um, hi." He doesn't seem to be able to form much else beyond that.

"Are you okay?" She asks tentatively.

He looks confused by the question. "Me? Oh. Yeah. Sure."

"Okay." She says helplessly. _That bastard, that bastard, that bastard._ "I'll be right back."

She whips out of the room and back to her desk, anger swelling in her chest. She dials the phone and waits impatiently for an answer. When she doesn't receive one, she tries again. Finally, he picks up, sounding irritated.

"Yes?"

"Sir! I can't believe you!"

"Excuse me?"

"You told him, didn't you? You told him about your relapse and then you left."

"Donnatella." He begins agitatedly. "I had a meeting."

"With who?"

"Well, I..."

"Sir, you didn't have a meeting. You left your son to deal with the news that your cancer has recurred, alone, because it made you uncomfortable."

He sighs gravely. "I'm not good at these things, Donna."

"Neither am I! But I'm the one who's here, and is going to have to deal with him until you get back."

"You'll talk to him? See that he's okay?"

"I'll do whatever I want, and you'll get back here as soon as humanly possible, how's that?"

"I'm rather engaged at the moment, Donna."

"With what? What could you possibly be engaged with?"

"Well."

" _Sir_."

"I couldn't very well go do nothing, could I?"

"Oh god."

"I stormed the judge on Julian's case's office to ask for an extended hearing."

"Sir, you didn't."

"I'd look a little silly if I just left now, Donna."

"And you'd look a little like a bad father if you let your son get on a plane before you had the chance to talk to him."

He gives another long-suffering sigh. "I didn't hire you to be my moral compass."

"It comes with the package."

"I just didn't like the way he was looking at me."

"Who? Judge Myers?"

"Josh."

"How was he looking at you?"

"The way he did before. Like a crumbling pillar."

"Sir, you're going to have to explain yourself." She says exasperatedly.

"A father is a very important role in a man's life. You have to project an image of strength, of durability. You have to be-"

"A pillar." She finishes his metaphor. She takes a breath, trying to control her irritation. "Sir-"

"That's how he looked at me when I was sick before."

"He's worried about you."

"I hate that. I'm supposed to worry about him, not the other way around."

"It's the circle of life."

"He must be angry." Noah acknowledges hoarsely, betraying his true fear. "That I kept it from him for so long."

"If he isn't yet, then he will be." She affirms, refusing to sugarcoat the situation at all for him. "But, he'll get over it. If you talk to him."

He sighs again. She has noticed a certain change in his breath: it is shakier than it once was. He pauses more in his sentences to suck in air. His body isn't keeping pace with him the way it used to. "Okay."

"Okay. Good. Leave Judge Myers alone, and get over here as soon as possible."

"Don't let him leave."

"I'll talk to him. Until you get here."

"That's twice in one day you've made me do the right thing, you know. I should really fire you."

"Impervious." She bats back before hanging up. Hesitantly, she creeps back toward his office, and opens the door slowly.

Inside, Josh is pacing. He stops to look at her. His response time is much better than it was a few minutes ago, which she takes as a good sign.

"Hi." She says again.

"Hi."

"Your father is on his way back."

"Mm." He starts pacing again, gaze dropping to the floorboards.

"So he told you, then." She starts delicately.

"Told me what?"

"About his relapse."

He looks over at her sharply. "You knew?"

She hesitates. _Shit_.

"You knew." He affirms. He exhales loudly, and resumes pacing with increased fervor. "Of course you did. Of course he told his intern before he told his own son. Makes perfect sense."

"Josh-"

"Who else knows? His goddamn grocery bagger? His mailman? Probably. Had to hit everyone on the list before he got down to me."

"It's a hard thing to tell your family." She defends Noah, inexplicably.

He glares at her. "What would you know about it?"

She looks down guiltily. "Well, he did talk to me about it. About how he was having a hard time telling you."

He looks at her in incredulity. "You have lots of deep conversations with my father about his personal matters, huh?"

"I told him to tell you!" She snaps back, before realizing what a mistake this is.

"You... Did?"

"Well, yes." She acknowledges, heat rising in her face.

"He told me because _you_ told him to? His _intern_?"

"Well, I'm sure it wasn't just that." She counters weakly.

"Well, thanks a lot for looking out for me." He says scathingly. "Real big of you."

She very much wants to run back to her desk and hide under it for a long, long time. Her mother had always told her not to meddle, and here was her proof. "I-"

In an instant, his anger deflates like a popped balloon. His shoulders sag, and the fire in his eyes (remarkably similar to Noah's in court) subsides. He looks at her scared expression with regret. "I'm sorry. You don't deserve this."

She composes herself, standing up straighter and meeting his eyes. "It's okay." She says bravely.

"No, it's not. You were just trying to help. That was shitty of me just then, I'm sorry." He says earnestly. His eyes are full of genuine remorse, and for a moment, she thinks she might forgive him for anything, with that look.

"It's okay. You're dealing with a lot right now, I'm sure." Nonetheless, she is grateful for his apology.

He smiles humorlessly. "Yeah. Right."

"I am sorry, by the way. About your dad."

He raises an eyebrow at her quizzically, and she realizes that she's made it sound like she's offering condolences.

"About everything, I mean. About the cancer coming back, about him being a stubborn horse's ass... All of it."

He smiles a little more genuinely this time. "He'll always be a stubborn horse's ass, that much can't be helped." A trait he'd proudly inherited.

She smiles, too. "I think he thought if he didn't tell you about it, it wouldn't be real. It would go away on its own, and it would be like nothing had ever happened."

He nods. "Sensible." He says sarcastically.

She chuckles, and he looks at her in surprise. She quickly sobers herself. "Can I, um, get you some water?"

He continues to stare at her. "No, I'm good."

"Whiskey, maybe?"

He grins wryly. "You have some on hand?"

"No, but I know someone who does." She walks around Noah's desk and bends to the bottom drawer. She'd seen it opened only in extreme circumstances; once, when pulling an all nighter as they completely overhauled their argument, and then a couple weeks later as they celebrated their victory in the case. She holds up a bottle of Jack Daniels triumphantly.

"My dad keeps alocohol in his office?"

"Ah, the things we keep from our children." She jokes, before remembering the situation. She falters. "I'll, um, find some glasses."

She sets the bottle on the desk and leaves, avoiding eye contact. After a few minutes of rummaging, she returns with paper cups.

He watches her, amused, as she pours some out for both of them. "Whiskey, out of paper cups, before five pm. Classy."

"I'll drink both of these, if you're so opposed."

"I'm not." He takes a cup from her and holds it up. "Cheers."

She knocks her paper cup against his. "Cheers." They both knock them back, and lower their cups to reveal faces screwed up at the taste. They make eye contact and laugh.

"Another round?"

"You read my mind."

They drink in near silence for the next ten minutes, at which time Noah arrives. He peers around his door wearily. Josh's eyes harden.

"I see you've found my 'desperate times' drawer." Noah says by way of a greeting.

"I'll see you later, sir." Donna says, dropping her eyes and scurrying out of the room. She feels thick tension descend in her wake.

She tries to ignore the situation she'd just extricated herself from. She attempts vainly to focus on editing her paper, but her gaze continually strays to her boss's door. She can hear muffled voices, but can make out no words.

Some time later, Josh emerges. She tries not to watch him too closely. He looks less upset than before, perhaps, but by no means upbeat. He pauses in front of her desk.

"I'm, uhh. Heading out. To the airport."

"Right." She nods. She hesitates before holding out her hand. "It was, um, nice to meet you."

He takes it, a hint of his dimpled smile reappearing. "You too. Thanks for the drink."

"Thanks for the coffee." She counters.

"You bet."

"Tell Jed Bartlet there's some crazy law student working for your father that's a big fan of his."

"Will do." He says with amusement.

"And do good for him. He deserves to win." She adds.

"Right." He gives her one last smile and heads for the double doors out of the office.

"Josh." She calls suddenly, and he turns to look at her. She presses on before she can change her mind. "His first treatment is next Thursday."

His expression clouds over. He hesitates, one hand on the door knob. "I'm really busy, you know."

She sets her jaw. "I understand."

He glances back at her, guilty. "I'll, um. I'll see you."

"Right. See you."

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Thursday morning, Donna bustles into the hospital lobby with a stack of files in her arms. She runs into Ruth in the hall, carrying two cups of coffee.

"Ruth." She greets breathlessly. "How are you?"

Ruth smiles at her. "Donnatella! What a pleasant surprise."

Donna lifts the stack. "He requested these."

Ruth chuckles. "Some light reading, I see."

"Of course."

She follows Ruth down the hall, where she turns left in to a room. Donna stops in the doorway, surprised by the sight of her boss engaged in a game of chess.

"You have no strategy."

"Winging it is a valid strategy."

A grin spreads across her face. "Hey boss."

Noah and Josh both turn to look at her.

"Donnatella! Come in, I'll take those files."

She rests the files gently on his lap, careful not to disturb his IV. She moves subtly to the other side of the chess board, Josh's eyes following her.

"You should pay close attention to the second page of that document, sir." She says. When Noah flips the page to scrutinize the type, she reaches out to move Josh's bishop. Both Ruth and Josh grin.

"You wouldn't happen to be helping my incompetent son, would you, Ms. Moss?"

"Of course not, sir."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Alright gang, buckle up! A lot goes down in this chapter.**

 **Thanks so much for all of your reviews. I greatly appreciate the feedback. I'm glad to see you guys are liking Noah - I've loved characterizing him :)**

 **Hope you're all having a good weekend, and that you enjoy this installment!**

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"Well, I'll see you at the office tomorrow, sir. I've got a class."

Noah nods without opening his eyes, his earlier energy having been drained. "Thank you for stopping by, Donna."

"Of course, sir." She smiles, trying to keep her concern out of her voice. She refrains from adding that perhaps he shouldn't come in tomorrow, knowing that he'll just dismiss her. She waves to Ruth and Josh, who are both gazing at him with the same concern. "Bye, guys."

"Goodbye, Donnatella. Thank you for everything." Ruth tells her sincerely.

"I'll walk you out." Josh says, surprising her. He gets up and ushers her out the door, failing to notice his mother's raised eyebrows.

"How chivalrous of you." She says once they're out of earshot.

He ignores her. "I'd like to clarify that I did not come back because of you."

 _Ah. So much for chivalry._ She smirks. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. What you said to me had nothing to do with me being here today."

"You sound defensive."

"I'm just saying, I came for my dad. And my mother. And only because the campaign is in New Hampshire today, so it wasn't hard for me to get over here."

"Right."

"I'm leaving in an hour to go back, actually. Like I said, I'm busy."

"Right. Very busy, and important, and whatever."

"I'm sure that you're being sarcastic, but I'm choosing to ignore you."

"If you're so busy, how do you have so much time to bother me?"

He gives her half a smile. "I prioritize."

"How is the campaign, by the way?"

"Good." He says quickly. "Gaining ground."

"Are you now?"

"Slowly. But just you wait."

"You had a pretty good news day on Monday."

He shakes his head. "Oh yeah. That was... Something."

"You didn't plan for that to happen, did you?"

"Not even a little bit." He admits. "The Governor can be a bit of a loose cannon."

"It works for him."

"Sure, until, you know, it doesn't."

"A world class political mind, ladies and gentlemen." She jokes.

He rolls his eyes. "What I mean is, not everyone finds it charming. A lot of people seem to think he's condescending, or fiery, or lacks judgment. He's the kind of guy people aren't sure they want to see commanding our armed forces. It's complicated."

"Something a meer plebeian like myself wouldn't understand, right?" He starts to say something, probably to defend himself, but she cuts him off. "There will always be people that don't like him. But those aren't the people you're trying to convince. Your middle ground voters won't be swayed by pandering, not now. His authenticity is his charm. You need to use it, not shy away from it."

He stops in front of her in the lobby, blinking in surprise. "Well, look who's an expert all of a sudden."

She smiles, knowing that try as he might to pretend otherwise, she's impressed him. "You guys should stop running away from yourselves."

"You ever thought about going into politics?"

"No." She lies. She waits for him to say, 'Well, you should.'

Instead, he says, "Then shut up. God, everybody's a critic."

"Yeah, but I'm a good one."

"Whatever." He shakes his head. "Don't you have a class to get to?"

"Yes." Though she wouldn't mind being late. "I should go, I suppose. Will I be seeing you again soon?"

He shrugs maddeningly. "Maybe. I am, after all, very-"

"Busy. Yes, I'm aware." She grins. "I'll see you sometime next week, Josh."

She reaches out to touch his arm before turning and leaving. She loves the completely off guard expression this elicits from him.

He stands there, watching her leave, and manages to call out just before the doors close behind her, "No, you won't!"

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 _The following day_

"Good morning, Donnatella." Noah greets casually, moving past her desk with the same briskness as usual.

She takes this as a good sign. She looks up to ask him how he's feeling, but is immediately distracted. "Sir, oh my god!"

He raises an eyebrow at her. "What is it?"

"Your hair!"

"What hair?" He asks, the sparkle in his eyes betraying his true amusement.

She struggles to rein in her shock. "You shaved your head!"

"Correct."

She splutters. "But... Well... Why?"

"I have cancer, Donna." He says, as if she is perhaps a bit slow.

"I know, but... You've only had one treatment."

"So?"

"So, you had a full head of hair yesterday, and this is just... A bit hard to adjust to."

He rolls his eyes, enjoying this far too much. "I'm sorry if you find my illness inconvenient to your daily life, Ms. Moss."

"Sir."

"I didn't want to wait for it to start falling out. So, I did away with it. I apologize for not conferring with you first to see if that would be okay." He says sarcastically.

She smiles slightly. "That's okay, sir. I forgive you."

His mouth twitches upward. "Good. Now, may I get to work?"

"How are you feeling, sir?" She asks.

He shrugs, not looking at her. "Fine."

"Okay." She doesn't push him. "But let me know if you need anything, or if you want me, Phil, or Louie to take anything off your desk."

"That won't be necessary."

"We're happy to do it."

He waves a hand. "I'm going to work in my office, now."

"Yes, sir." She allows.

Two hours later, she brings him his usual mid-morning coffee. He thanks her, but when she stops in an hour later, he hasn't touched it. She finds a ginger ale in one of the building's vending machines and takes it to him. He looks at it in surprised gratitude.

"That's... Thank you, Donnatella."

"Of course, sir."

"I wasn't really in the mood for coffee, strangely enough."

"Sir."

"Mm?"

"It's okay for you to tell me when you feel sick. It'll make my job easier, I promise."

He hesitates before nodding. "I will."

She smiles and heads back to her desk, adding as an afterthought, "And you look good bald!"

He gives a rare laugh, and opens his ginger ale.

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 _A week later_

The Lyman & Associates office is in the middle of an all-staff run down meeting when they're interrupted by the double doors swinging open. That part could've been easily ignored, but the "Oh, fuck!" that immediately follows is a bit too conspicuous for them to continue as if nothing happened.

Noah aims a withering glare at his son. "Josh."

"You're bald!"

"Josh, we're in the middle of a staff meeting." A fact which he really should've been alerted to by the fact that they're all standing around watching his father, who is beside a rolling white board bearing assignments and names.

"You look like a gnome."

"Joshua."

"Or Professor X." At this, a few team members can't hold back a chuckle.

Noah takes a deep breath in through his nose. "Still a right sight better looking than you."

This takes the bigger laugh. Josh rolls his eyes. "Sorry. I'll wait for you to finish."

He takes a seat next to Donna on her desk, and she gives him a look. He ignores this.

She tries to keep her focus on the staff meeting, but finds it continually straying. Finally, Noah concludes, and walks over to join his son and intern. Josh hugs him, more gently than he had a few weeks ago.

Noah holds him at arm's length to examine him. "You look tired."

"You say that every time you see me."

"It's true every time I see you."

" _You_ look tired. What are you doing standing up for a fifteen minute staff meeting, anyway?"

"My job." Noah says flatly. "And I repeat, I'm still far better looking than you."

"Sure."

"Wouldn't you agree, Ms. Moss?"

Donna smiles. "Of course, sir."

"Told ya."

"You pay her, dad."

"Donna, have I ever told you about how sensitive Josh is that he's shorter than me?"

"Why, no, sir, you haven't mentioned it."

"I am _not_ sensitive about it."

"Whatever you say, son."

"I'm only an inch shorter than you, you know."

"And what a difference an inch makes."

Donna chokes on a laugh, not sure if Noah had intended the double meaning or not. Josh notices and gives her a smirk.

"And I wouldn't have this problem if you hadn't married, ya know, a midget."

"That's not a kind thing to say about your mother." Donna admonishes him.

"What? I love her, but she's tiny."

Noah grins, and Donna gets the feeling that they've had this conversation more than once. "And thus, Josh is cursed to be diminutive, all thanks to my poor choice in women."

"I am _not_ diminutive."

"See? Sensitive."

Donna chuckles, and Josh rolls his eyes again. "Anyway, dad, how are you feeling?"

"Good. Well, fine. I'm fine." Noah says firmly.

Josh looks at him skeptically. "Okay. You ready for lunch?"

"Yes! I'll get my coat." Noah heads off to his office.

In his wake, Donna furrows her brow at Josh. "You're not staying?"

He shakes his head. "We're in Hartford today, I'm just here for an hour or so."

"Oh." She tries not to sound disappointed. Brusquely, she says, "I saw you took my advice, by the way."

He smiles. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"The whole 'harnessing his authenticity' thing. He's been all over the news this week for his 'loose cannon' moments, and from where I was sitting, they almost looked coordinated."

"Get a better seat."

She grins. "You're welcome."

"That reminds me. I've got something for you."

She gasps melodramatically. "For me?"

He grabs his backpack from the floor and unzips it. He rummages around for a second before tossing her a shirt. She unfolds it to find the Bartlet for America logo, and beams.

"Hey, thanks! I wanted one of these!"

"I told the Governor about the crazy intern from my father's office, and he thought I should utilize the opportunity for free advertising."

"Smart."

He pulls out a matching baseball cap, and reaches out to put it on her. He purposefully pushes it too low over her eyes, and she bats his hand away in irritation.

"You've gotta wear 'em at all times, so we get our money's worth."

"Will do." She fixes her hat. "I was starting to feel left out, what with how much swag your parents have."

"They bought all of that, too. I kept telling them I'd get them some free stuff, but they wanted to buy it. My father got in a few digs about us needing the money. Which we do, but, ya know."

"They want to support your endeavors. It's sweet."

"Sure."

"I thought we weren't going to see you this week."

He shrugs. "The schedule just worked out that way."

"Right."

"And I wanted to check in on him."

"Good."

"It most certainly did not have anything to do with-"

"Me. Yes, I know."

"Well. Good." He refocuses himself. "How is he, by the way?"

Her smile falters. "He's okay. A little tired, maybe, but okay."

"Okay. Good." He nods, more convinced by her than he'd been by his father. "If you think he's overworking himself, you should let me know. Or my mom."

"Because you'll have better luck at getting him to take it easy?"

"There's been no evidence of it so far." He admits. "But maybe if we all teamed up on him."

"Like an intervention?"

"Precisely."

Noah emerges from his office, and pauses for a moment to take in the sight of the two of them. He smiles slightly as he walks the rest of the way to Donna's desk.

"Ready to go, kid?"

"God, did you get more bald while you were in there?"

Noah claps his son on the shoulder and pushes him toward the door. "I'll see you in an hour, Donnatella."

"Yes, sir. Bye, Josh."

"Bye, Donnatella." He uses her full name, like he'd heard his father do. Somehow, it sounds almost like an endearment when he says it.

"Thanks for the stuff."

"No problem."

"I'll see you next week." She calls as the doors start to swing shut.

"No, you won't!"

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 _The following day_

"I bought you a present, sir."

Noah looks up in surprise. His intern stands before him, having just arrived from her morning class. She holds a square cardboard box, and wears an expression of excitement.

"What's the occasion?"

"It's your birthday."

"No it's not."

"It's my birthday."

"That doesn't make sense."

"It's president's day?"

"It's not that, either."

"Sir, will you just open it?"

He sighs and takes the package from her. As he opens it, he says, "This is highly unnecessary."

"Be quiet."

He uncovers tissue paper, which he carefully unfolds to reveal a hat. It is a forties' style broad fedora, grey with an elegant black ribbon.

"I thought it suited you." She says anxiously. "You know, classic and sophisticated. I knew you wouldn't wear any old beanie."

Noah, who had never much cared for hats (they messed up his perfectly combed back hair), examines the gift. "I... I quite like this."

"You do?"

"I'm surprised to say that I do."

She grins broadly. "I'm glad."

"It's quite sharp." Sharp was, of course, the highest compliment Noah knew for clothing and accessories.

"Try it on." She encourages.

He places it on his head, and carefully adjusts the brim. "How do I look?"

"Like an old world gangster."

He gives her a stern look.

"That's a compliment, sir."

"Oh. I see." He gives her one of his rare smiles. "Thank you, Donnatella. I truly appreciate this gift, inappropriate though it may be."

"You're welcome, sir." She says warmly. "I'm sorry that I made a bit of a scene about you shaving your head."

"That's alright."

"And I'm sorry about Josh in that staff meeting, too."

Noah chuckles. "My son doesn't have much of a filter."

"I've noticed that."

"It's fine. It would've been much stranger for the two of us if he hadn't made any jokes about it."

"Yeah. I get that."

"Thank you again. I appreciate the gesture."

"Of course, sir."

"I must show Ruth." He says excitedly as she leaves. She'd never spent a better forty dollars in her life.

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 _A week later_

"Donnatella Moss."

Donna looks up at the now familiar lilting of her name. "Well, look who it is."

"I hear tell that you're the reason my father's been going around looking like some sort of mobster."

"Oh, the hat? Don't you love it?"

"He looks like he arranges for people to wake up next to horse heads."

"Is that a reference?"

He gapes at her. "The Godfather."

She shrugs. "Never seen it."

He continues to stare at her, appalled. "You've - you've never-" he splutters.

She ignores him. "Anyway, I think he looks great."

"You're crazy."

"He seems to like it."

"Like it? He hasn't taken the damn thing off since I got in last night."

"Last night? You stayed a full night? But, you're so busy!" She mocks.

"I've got two days off."

She furrows her brow. "How's that?"

"The Governor is in Manchester, celebrating his daughter's eighteenth birthday."

"Zoey's turning eighteen?"

"See, I knew we should've made a bigger deal of this. Would've made good press." He says irritably.

"You wanted to use his daughter's eighteenth birthday for political gain?" She asks critically.

"Yeah, the governor looked at me like that when I said it to him, too."

She shakes her head disdainfully. _Two days_. So she'll be seeing more of him. "Where's your father?"

"He stopped off the hall to talk to some guy."

"Concilman Morris?"

"I think so."

"Hm."

"I see you're not wearing the Bartlet gear I so generously gave you."

"I didn't think a tshirt and hat qualified as professional."

"I don't care. I told you, twenty-four seven display. They weren't a gift, they were an investment."

"An investment?"

"Yeah. We want the returns, so you've gotta wear 'em, day and night."

"And who exactly will be seeing them at night?"

"I don't know. Your boyfriend?" He chances.

She shakes her head, and she swears he looks pleased. "My roommate, maybe."

"See? That's exposure."

"She's a republican."

"You room with a republican?"

"She's very nice."

"She's a republican." He repeats, as if a nice republican is an oxymoron.

Noah sweeps into the room, wearing his now trademark hat. He smiles fondly at the pair before him. "Good morning, Donna."

"Good morning, sir."

"I'm going to work on next week's argument in my office."

Josh looks over at him. "Do you want me to come?"

Noah notices his slight reluctance, and covers a smirk. "I certainly don't need you, Josh. Stay out here and help Donna with her case work, why don't you?"

They both try and fail not to look pleased with this directive.

"I don't need any help, sir."

"Of course not."

He closes his door behind him, and leaves them there to bicker over Bartlet, the Godfather, and countless other things.

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"I do wish you would let me help." Noah wheedles.

" _No_." His son and wife snap back in unison.

"Fine." He sulks. He leans back against the counter, watching them do the dishes together. Ruth washes, and Josh dries and puts them away. The scene reminds him of one he'd seen countless times in Josh's school years. He takes off his hat and scratches his head. "So, Joshua."

"Yes?" He looks at him as he turns around to put a dish in a cabinet.

"I notice that you and my intern are starting to warm to one another."

Josh rolls his eyes and returns to the sink to take the next dish from his mother. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Just that, neither of you seem quite as irritated with each other."

"Sure, I guess. I guess I'm getting used to her."

Noah smiles. 'Getting used to her' seemed, to him, an understatement.

"It's very hard not to like her." Ruth inputs.

"Really? Because it's only taken me three weeks."

Ruth hits him with a dish towel.

"So you like her, then?" Noah catches him. Standing there in the kitchen, the three of them, teasing Josh about a girl, Noah is struck again by a sudden flash of nostalgia.

"Dad, don't start with me."

"Don't start with what?" Noah asks innocently.

"Dad."

"What?"

"Stop trying to set me up with your intern."

Noah shrugs. "I'm not."

"She's too young for me, anyway. She's, what, twenty-five?"

"Twenty-seven."

Josh furrows his brow. "How is she twenty-seven?"

"Well, twenty-seven years and however many months ago, her mother went into labor-"

"I meant, she's in her final year of law school. Did she take five years to finish law school?"

"No."

"Two gap years?"

"Of a sort."

"You're being very cryptic."

"You're very curious."

"I'm not. I don't care."

"She dropped out of undergraduate, and then returned to finish her degree two years later."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you that. It's not my place." Noah tells him seriously. "But, I will tell you, she worked very hard to finish her degree in those two years, even though she'd switched majors. And she did so well that she was admitted into Yale Law school - not an easy feat."

Josh looks somewhat impressed, but this information does little to temper his curiosity. "I'm not getting it."

"Her essay for admission was about those two years. I read it, it was quite moving."

"Oh, I remember you telling me about that." Ruth chimes in. "That poor girl."

"What are you guys talking about?" Josh exclaims, frustrated.

"You'll have to ask her, son." Noah tells him, trying to contain his mirth.

"I'm not doing that." Josh says incredulously.

"Fine. That's your prerogative. Will you be joining me at the office tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I will."

"Wonderful."

"But not because of that. Again, I don't care. At all."

"Of course."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"So, where did you go to school?" Josh asks casually over Donna's desk. He'd been helping her comb through depositions and highlight relevant text, with a few breaks to take calls from Leo and Toby.

She takes a moment to look up at him. "Yale Law school."

He should've expected that. "For undergrad."

"The University of Wisconsin."

"What'd you study?"

"I finished with a degree in Political Science."

"Finished with?"

"Yes."

"Was there something before that?"

"Biology. And French. And theatre." She lists, a tad embarrassed.

"Took you a little while to settle on something, huh?"

"I have a lot of interests."

"So I've gathered."

"That's why I'm so interesting."

He doesn't disagree. "Is that why you dropped out? You didn't know what you wanted to do?"

She balks in surprise. "How did you know that I dropped out?"

"My father told me."

She clenches her jaw and returns her gaze to the depositions she's reading. "No. That's not why I dropped out."

"Then what was it?"

She bites her bottom lip. "That's not really any of your business."

"Fine. Don't tell me. I'm sorry."

She sighs. "There were some money problems."

"Your money problems?"

"...Sort of."

This is the answer he'd expected. "There was a guy."

"Yes."

"He was older."

"Yes."

"Law student?"

"Medical student."

"And you dropped out to work, so he could stay in school."

"Yes." She still isn't looking at him.

He wants to ask her what was so special about the guy, or what she thought was so not-special about her, that he deserved to pursue his dreams while she put hers on hold. He doesn't. "And what happened between you and Dr. Free ride?"

"We broke up." She says shortly.

"Why?"

"What, does he sound like a nice guy to you?" She finally meets his gaze, eyes blazing.

"No. He sounds like an asshole." Had he not already made that clear?

"Well, he was. So we broke up, and I went back to school."

"Okay."

She rubs at her forehead. "I was in the hospital for a night. And it made me... Reevaluate some things."

"You were in the hospital?" His brow knits in concern. "What happened?"

She takes a deep breath. "Officially? I fell down some stairs."

The pieces click together, and his eyes widen. His heart twinges painfully with sympathy, and something else. "Oh my god, Donna."

She shakes her head and gets up from her desk. She puts on a brisk smile. "Don't worry about it. I'm going to go grab some more files."

He follows her doggedly. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For all of it. I'm sorry that it happened, and I'm sorry that I asked."

"Don't be. It's okay."

"No, really. I am."

"It was five years ago, Josh. It's okay."

"Still, I'm... I'm sorry."

She gives him half a smile, which is more genuine, as she opens the door to the file room. "Thanks."

"It's good that you went back to school."

"I know."

"You're, you know. You're smart, it would've been a waste."

"I think that's the first compliment you've given me."

"Can't be."

"I think it is." She's glad for it. She opens a filing cabinet to look for the relevant paperwork from last month. "But it's a good start."

"Right."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." She deserves it, after what she'd just told him.

"What were you and your father doing talking about me, anyway?"

He looks up like a deer caught in headlights. "Um."

She grins. "I figured."

"Figured what?"

"You're obsessed with me." She says flatly, knowing how this will infuriate him.

"What? I am not - that's ridiculous." He splutters.

Successfully, she has diverted the attention from herself. But she decides not to stop there - this could be fun. "All the evidence points to the contrary."

"What evidence?" His voice has climbed to a higher register.

"Well, you're always calling me."

"For updates on my father!"

"You're constantly coming to see me, despite claims that you're busy."

"My father! Coming by to see my _father_."

"You buy me things."

"Those gifts were free. And they weren't gifts! They were an investment."

"You're unusually interested in my backstory, to the point that you asked your father about me."

"I did _not_ ask about you."

"Whatever you say, Josh." She shrugs maddeningly.

"Okay, let's get some things straight, here." He says plaintively. He lifts his hands for what she assumes will be accompanying gestures to his lecture. "I do not like you. I don't think you're cute, and I don't think you're funny. I don't think about you until precisely the moment that I have to see you or speak to you, at which time, my only feeling is slight irritation. I do not go out of my way to see you, and despite your self-indulgent alternate reality, I do not care at all what you think about me."

He has moved closer to her in his rant, and now stands only a few inches away from her, catching his breath. She is leaning back against the filing cabinet, watching him.

"Were you trying to convince me there, or yourself?"

He splutters. "Me! I mean, fuck, you. God, why are you-"

She grins and cuts him off. "Because either way, you're a really bad liar."

Impulsively, she leans forward and kisses him. He is surprised at first, to the point that she fears momentarily that she's made a grave mistake. But then, in an instant, one of his hands is in her hair, and he is pressing her against the filing cabinet, and he is proving her so unbelievably right. She accidentally breaks the kiss by smiling widely.

He watches her, a slight smile of his own forming. "So, what I said just then..."

"You'd like to withdraw it from the record?"

He grins fully. "That'd be nice."

"I was right." She gloats.

"Whatever makes you happy."

He is about to take the smirk off her face the best way he knows how, when they're interrupted by a shout from the main office space.

"DONNA."

She sighs. She takes a moment to collect herself, and to remove her hands from her boss's son. He does the same, and takes a step away from her. "In here, sir." She calls.

Noah pokes his head in. "Ah. I was just wondering if you'd left for class yet."

She checks her watch. "Crap. I'll be leaving in just a minute, sir."

"That fine. The depositions?"

"They're on my desk. Josh can walk you through the notes if need be."

"Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, sir."

He leaves, and thankfully closes the door behind him. They turn back to each other, anticipant.

"So, I have a class." She says apologetically.

"Right." His hands find her waist of their own accord.

Hers rest on his chest. "But, what are you doing later?"

"Not much. Why?"

"Do you think you could get away for a while?"

"Probably." He grins.

"Good." She pulls a pen out of her pocket. He watches in amusement as she takes his hand and writes something on his forearm. He squints at it. It's an address. "I'll be done around four."

"Got it."

She looks reluctantly at the door, then back down at her watch. "But, you know what? I've got five minutes."

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 **What, things are happening between them? Already? _Crazy_.**

 **Yeah, they "get together" pretty early in this story. But don't worry, things are just beginning. And you'll see why I put those quotation marks there next chapter ;)**

 **Also, how freaking adorable was that hat scene?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys! Surprise, I'm updating early. I was going to make this chapter longer, but when I started to add in the next scene, it started growing way too fast. So here's this! Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up by this weekend or early next week.**

 **You guys have been so great with your reviews. I've loved reading them - they're so well thought out and considerate. You've made me feel truly appreciated, and have at times influenced how I look at and choose to write something. You guys think of things I never would've considered, and that's why I need you :) I also always love hearing your reactions and predictions - it makes my day. I'm so glad that this AU has generated such a response. It's so encouraging.**

 **Also, a special shoutout to db and AnnieFA, who are reading this story chapter by chapter even though it kills them and often they've preferred to wait until I finish a story to read it. Much love :)**

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Donna starts to feel almost too content, lying in bed with her boss's son. She is not usually one for cuddling, but she is surprisingly comfortable with her head on his chest, listening to his heart rate slow and even out. He has one arm around her, and his other hand toys absently with her hair.

It is becoming all too clear that, yes, she likes him. Which totally sucks.

To ruin the nice moment, she says, "So, this can't happen again."

He sighs. "Yeah. That's probably for the best."

She had hoped he'd disagree with her. But this does make things easier. "Because, this is weird, right? It's inappropriate."

"Right."

"And I live here, and you live... I don't know, on a bus, I think."

He smiles. "Yeah, something like that."

She sits up suddenly. "So, we shouldn't do this part. The intimate part."

He raises an eyebrow at her quizzically. "We just had sex. That wasn't the intimate part?"

She rolls her eyes. "Sex can be highly impersonal, Josh."

He props himself up on his elbows. "Yeah, but that wasn't. I'd know, I was there."

He has her there. She shakes her head. "Sure it was."

"It was?"

"Yes. That was definitely impersonal."

"I'm very confused."

She pretends to be exasperated. " _This_ is intimate." She is glad to have an excuse to lean down and kiss him deeply. She kisses him slowly, and hovers for a moment with a millimeter of space between them before sitting back up. "See?"

He opens his eyes and shakes his head as if to clear it. "You're a very confusing person."

She grins. She decides that she loves nothing more than driving him crazy. _Damn it. "_ Didn't you say you had to leave by six?"

He checks his watch. "Shit."

"Somewhere to be?" She asks as he starts to redress, although she already knows where it is he has to be.

"I said I'd be home for dinner."

"This all feels very high school." She teases.

He glares at her as he buttons his jeans. "I want you to remember that I have a very nice apartment, of my _own_ , in DC."

"How nice?" She kneels on the edge of the bed, watching him.

"Really nice. Nicer than this place. Big, too. With no republican roommates." He stops in front of her, and tilts her head up to kiss her. He adds in a murmur, "And I have a much bigger bed than you."

She laughs and shoves him away from her. "Get out of my apartment, would you?"

"I'm working on it. Where's my shirt?"

"I think it's in the hallway." She recalls.

"Right." He ducks out of her room.

She gets up, walks to her dresser to find a shirt and underwear, and then follows him. He waits for her near the living room, looking out anxiously. "What is it?"

"There's a person there."

"My roommate?"

"I should hope so."

She rolls her eyes and pulls him with her by the hand. "Clarissa." She greets her roommate, who is reading with her headphones on on the couch. She receives no response. " _Clarissa_."

Clarissa's head jolts up, and her eyes widen. She pulls her headphones off. "Oh, hey. Sorry, I had it on pretty loud." She smirks. "You guys were kinda noisy."

Donna ignores this, and tries to fight down a blush. "Clarissa, this is Josh."

Clarissa extends a hand. "Josh?"

"Josh Lyman." He takes her hand. He has also been unsuccessful at keeping down a blush.

Clarissa squints at him. "Lyman... Don't you work for a guy named Lyman?" Her eyes widen dramatically. "Oh my god, is this-"

"No." Donna snaps. "I did not sleep with my boss. God, Clarissa."

"Oh." Clarissa deflates.

"This is my boss's son."

Clarissa snorts. "Oh yeah, because that's so much better, Donna."

"Whatever. Anyway, I'm trying to help Josh conquer his stigma against republicans."

"Huh." Clarissa smiles brightly. "I'm surprised you aren't one. Donna almost exclusively dates republicans."

Josh turns to look at Donna curiously. "Does she now?"

"Well, I'm not dating him, anyway." Donna says pointedly.

He ignores her. "A real bunch of winners, were they, Clarissa?"

She frowns. "Now that you mention it, no."

Josh smiles smugly, and Donna glares at her roommate. "Way to help with the stigma, Clarissa."

Clarissa shrugs. "Oops."

Josh grins. "Well, as amusing as this is, I really should be going."

"Right." Donna spies a sweatshirt flung haphazardly over an armchair. "Hey, isn't that yours, too?"

He follows her gaze. "Yes." He walks over and pulls it on.

"You guys covered a lot of ground." Clarissa notes.

Donna ignores her, and meets Josh by the door. She folds her arms. "So."

"So." He echoes.

"That was nice." She admits.

"Yeah." He agrees. He gives her that maddening smile, and she knows she can't let him go quite yet.

She pulls him to her for one last kiss, and he responds eagerly. They might've lost themselves, if Clarissa hadn't loudly interrupted a minute later, "Hey, doesn't Josh have somewhere to be?"

They break apart guiltily. Donna refolds her arms. "That was the last one. Seriously."

"Sure." He humors her. "But, tell me, was that one impersonal or intimate? Because I'm really confused about where the line is."

She smiles. "Get out."

He grins. "See ya."

As she's closing the door behind him, she calls, "See you next week!"

"No, you won't!"

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 _The following day_

"Good morning, Donnatella." Noah greets as he enters the office with a remarkably cheery disposition.

"Good morning, sir." She bravely makes eye contact.

"Come with me into my office, would you?"

"Sure." She follows him curiously.

"You'll accompany me to court this morning, won't you?" He asks as he settles into his chair.

"I was planning on it."

"Good. I think it'll be an interesting argument."

"I agree."

"And you have the notes prepared, yes?"

"Yes."

"Marvelous."

"Is that all, sir?"

"How was your evening yesterday, Donna?" He asks, which isn't entirely out of the ordinary. But the way he is looking at her, as though he is actually interested in her answer, is quite abnormal.

"It was fine." She says slowly. "Quiet, you know. I had class, then I just went home and studied."

"I see."

"How was your evening, sir?"

"Oh, it was fine." He says dismissively. "Josh was there for dinner, and then he left to get back to the campaign."

"Right." She clears her throat. "Well, if that's all, sir, I should really go through the notes one more time-"

"Donna." He calls before she can reach the door.

"Yes?"

"Exactly how inept do you think I am?"

She falters. "I'm sorry, sir?"

"I'm asking how incompetent you must assume I am, to think I wouldn't notice."

She swallows dryly. She feels her pulse accelerate. "Notice what, sir?" She asks tremulously.

"My son came home late for dinner last night, with his shirt inside out and an address written on his arm in what I recognized as your handwriting."

She squeezes her eyes shut. _Shit_. "He put his shirt on inside out?"

"Yes."

"God, what an idiot." She mumbles fondly.

"Donna?"

"Mmhmm?" She manages without opening her eyes. She is blushing profusely, she's sure.

"I'm okay with it." He allows himself to smile fully.

"What?" She opens her eyes hesitantly.

"You. Josh. I wholeheartedly approve."

"There's - there's nothing to approve of, sir!" She stammers.

He squints at her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, there's nothing happening between us. It was a one time thing." She makes a definitive gesture. "It's nothing."

"It's nothing?"

"It's nothing." She repeats firmly.

"But, you slept together."

"Agh! Gross!" She holds up her hands as if to fend off the embarrassment of this moment. "I have never wanted to hear you say those words in my life."

"I don't understand this generation at all." Noah mutters.

Donna takes a calming breath. "Sir. Can we please not talk about this? Ever?"

"I'm very confused."

"It won't happen again. Me and Josh."

"Why not?"

"Because! He's your son! It's inappropriate!"

Noah shrugs. "I just told you I don't mind."

"That doesn't make it any more appropriate. Nothing about this is appropriate. This conversation? Inappropriate."

"You're very red."

"And, I don't even like him!"

Noah stares at her incredulously. "You _slept_ together." He repeats.

"Oh my god! You have got to stop saying that!"

"Sorry." He allows her a moment to collect herself.

"Sir." She says plaintively. "It was a momentary lapse in judgment. There's nothing beyond that. And I would appreciate it if we just forgot the whole thing happened."

Noah tries not to look disappointed. "You're sure?"

"Yes. You didn't say anything to Josh last night, did you?"

"With Ruth there? Are you crazy? Now _she'd_ never let you hear the end of it."

Donna looks relieved. "Okay. So let's just leave it there, why don't we, sir?"

Noah pouts - in a dignified manner, of course. "Fine."

She manages a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"Hmph."

"I'm going back to my desk, now."

"Fine." He mutters. He comforts himself with the knowledge that he had, at least, been right that there was something going on between the two of them. Now, all he can do is hope that his next suspicion - that this definitely wasn't a "one time thing" - turns out to be right as well.

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 _That afternoon_

The phone rings obnoxiously, jarring Donna out of a proof-reading session of one of Noah's briefs. She picks up and cradles the phone against her shoulder absently, gaze falling back to her assignment. "Lyman and Associates, how may I help you?"

"Donnatella."

She stops reading. "Oh, hey."

"Hey. Um." He pauses awkwardly. He finally settles on "How are you?"

"Me? Oh, I'm good." _Unable to make eye contact with my boss - your father - but, other than that, good._

"That's good."

"How are things in Oregon?"

"Cold."

"Right."

"Everyone on staff is in a bad mood."

"That sucks."

"Not me. I'm in a great mood."

She smiles slightly. "That must be annoying to your coworkers."

"Well, sure. But they always find me annoying."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Was that sarcasm?"

"Me? Never."

He pauses again. "So, listen, I'm calling to talk to my father."

"Right."

"Not you."

"Of course not. Why would you be?"

"I don't know. I thought you might be under some sort of delusion that I'd be calling to talk to you. About last night."

"I wasn't."

"Good, 'cause I'm not. Not because I didn't have a great time, but because I think the agreement was that we forget about it and move on. And, I don't know, if we talk about it, I'm afraid you'll give up your moral standing on that whole thing."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think that's a warranted concern, Josh."

"No?"

"No."

"Well, you haven't heard me talk about it yet, so you don't know how you'll feel. But let me tell you, you'll feel things."

"Will I?"

"Yeah."

She laughs. "Sorry, I'm just having trouble believing in your ability to talk dirty at all, let alone well."

"Well, you asked for it." She can practically hear him shrugging. "So there was this one particular sound you made that I'm having trouble getting out of my head-"

"Oh my _god_ , shut up."

"What?"

"That was not a challenge, believe it or not. When I said I didn't think you could talk dirty."

"It sounded like a challenge."

"Listen, I'm at work right now, so I can't really respond in kind, but rest assured, if we were to turn this into a competition? I'd win."

"I find that dubious."

"Find whatever you want dubious, I'll prove it to you. I'm very competitive."

"I'm sure."

"Good."

"So, when I said earlier that I called to talk to my father?"

"Yes?"

"That was a lie. I called to do this."

"Do what?"

"I don't know, argue with you. And tell you about this one sound that's been driving me insane all day-"

"You're in so over your head, my friend."

She can hear the satisfied smirk in his voice. "If you say so."

She looks up as Noah emerges from his office and stops expectantly in front of her desk. "Hold on." She says into the phone. "Sir?"

"Have you finished proofing?"

"Not quite, sir."

He squints at her. "Are you okay, Donna?"

She furiously attempts to school her expression into one of calm professionalism. "Yes, why?"

"Well, you're quite flushed."

"It's kind of hot in here, sir."

"Who are you on the phone with?"

"Hm? Oh, nobody." She realizes that this is about the most suspicious answer she could've given. "A classmate who wanted help understanding last class's reading."

He gives her a skeptical look. "Okay."

"I'll be done with the brief shortly, sir."

"Okay." He strolls back into his office, painfully slowly.

She takes a deep breath before picking up the phone again. "I'm back."

"Was that my dad?"

"Yes."

He laughs. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, that's just really funny."

"It's not that funny."

"You're right. Sorry, you're right." He pauses. "...A little funny though, you have to admit."

"A little funny." She agrees grudgingly.

"Just because of the dramatic irony."

"You're not using that phrase correctly."

"I just love it when we talk."

She grins. "Are we done now?"

"I had a dream about you last night."

"Really?"

"No." He admits. "But I wish I had."

Any chance she'd had of regaining her usual complexion goes out the window. It could be a line he uses, maybe, but she has a suspicion that it isn't - it's just one of those things he says without thinking, and without realizing at all that it's kind of sweet. "Well. Here's to better luck tonight."

"Thanks."

She wishes she'd dreamt about him, too. "I'm still firm in my convictions, by the way. This thing? You and me? Never again."

"Good. That was the agreement."

"You're still firm in your convictions, too?" She asks dubiously.

"Donna." He begins in a tone laden with false exasperation. "Just because I call you to annoy the hell out of you for a few minutes, does not mean I'm at all interested in sleeping with you again."

"Oh. Oh, I see."

"I called to clear the air."

"Right."

"If I hadn't, it would've been awkward."

"Yes, because this hasn't been awkward at all."

"I tried."

"I don't want it to be awkward, either." She admits. "I like you. I like talking to you."

"I know."

"Josh."

"Sorry, I meant, I like you too."

"That was hard for you, wasn't it?"

"You have no idea."

"As a friend, right?" She confirms.

"A friend? That's a stretch. We're more like acquaintances."

She rolls her eyes. "I've got work to do."

"Right. Me too."

"It should be noted that that bit earlier about me out dirty-talking you was hypothetical, by the way. We won't actually be having that competition."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It would be-"

"Inappropriate. Yes, I'm aware."

"Good. But, I would win."

"Whatever." He dismisses her. "But, hey, I want to apologize."

"For what?"

"My dad told me he was taking a half-day today. I didn't think he'd be there. I wouldn't have... You know."

"Oh. Well, I appreciate that." Having a fraught conversation with yesterday's one-night stand while her boss was milling around hadn't exactly been at the top of her list of things she'd wanted to experience today - or ever. She's glad he hadn't wanted her to experience it, either.

"Yeah."

"But wait..." She frowns. "Didn't you say you were calling to talk to your father?"

"Well, yeah. But that was a cover."

"Right." She smiles softly.

"The more important issue is why my father's been lying to me about his schedule."

"He doesn't want you to worry."

"Well, now I'm worried."

"Don't be. He's doing really well, as far as I can tell."

"Mm."

"Will we be seeing you again soon?"

"I have honestly no idea."

"Your dad has a treatment next Saturday morning."

"Right. I'll try to get over there if I can. We'll probably be back on the east coast by then."

"Okay. Don't trouble yourself, I won't miss you."

"It wasn't quite a moan, it was more like a sigh-"

"I'm hanging up now."

"See ya."

She hangs up, and sits for a minute staring blankly down at the brief on her desk. Slowly she feels the heat leave her face, but a warmth lingers in her chest that she's sure will be there for a while.

The truth is, despite what she'd told Josh - and Noah - her determination not to be involved with him had nothing to do with propriety or professionalism. Sure, she could do without the awkward conversations with her boss, or the challenge of navigating a new dynamic. But that was nothing compared to what she really feared.

The problem was that she knew herself too well.

She knew her chronic problem of falling head over heels for someone, of throwing everything away for a guy. She would do this, only for her to get burned. For it all to go up in flames, and for her to have nothing left to call her own.

She'd made a promise to herself when she went back to school: Never again. She was going to graduate. She was going to get her degree, pass the bar, and make her own life for a change.

Things were going so well. Noah had already offered her a permanent position on his staff on the condition that she pass the bar. The job was perfect: benefits and responsibilities that most first year grads could only dream of.

She'd dated, over the years, since Roy. She'd managed to avoid anything serious, and if it ever started to head that way, she'd use work and study as a way to distance herself.

Everything was going according to plan.

But this? This guy, who was smart, and funny, and ridiculous enough to be charming? Who could ruin her job opportunities and her life plan in one fell swoop?

He was _not_ a part of the plan.

She knows this feeling. This tug in her gut. This warmth in her chest. It is a feeling she used to rely on, when she was more impulsive. But she doesn't trust it anymore.

This feeling, and this guy, are dangerous. And she's determined not to let them in.

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 **Gah, I'm so sorry! They're not really _together_ together. I'm the worst. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey guys. I'm sorry I've taken so long to update this story. But I'm back now, and hopefully my next break won't be nearly as long!**

 **Unfortunately, this chapter is pretty short. I tried to incorporate the next bit of plot, but then it just go too long and convoluted to be cohesive. So, here's one scene - weird, right? I never just write one scene.**

 **Anyway, I want to thank you all so much for the reviews! Your feedback is fantastic, and propels all that I do.**

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Come Saturday morning, Donna brushes into her boss's hospital room. She knows her way around the place much better by now, which she has mixed feelings about. The bed is empty, as he always prefers a chair. _Respectable people don't lie down while with company unless absolutely necessary,_ he had told her. At which point, both she and Ruth had tried to argue that it was absolutely necessary.

"Good morning, sir." She greets, overly cheerful. She may have gotten better at navigating the hospital, but navigating the situation hasn't gotten much easier. "Morning, Ruth."

"Good morning, Donnatella."

"Good morning, dear! You're looking well."

"Thank you."

"A little thin, perhaps."

"You always think I'm looking a little thin."

"You always are! Next time you come for dinner, I'm sending you home with something."

"You don't need to do that." Donna reminds her, though she knows it's no use. Her fridge is constantly stocked with soup and casserole, for which both she and Clarissa are grateful. "But thank you."

"Of course."

"Sir, I've got the prep for Monday's trial, as requested. Though I really think Phil could go instead, he's up on everything-"

"No." Noah interrupts her firmly. "Hand it over."

"Fine." She relents. "Is that all?"

"No. I'd like you to stay and prep with me."

"Sir." She says exasperatedly. Did the man have no desire to rest?

"What, do you have somewhere more important to be?" He looks at her over his glasses. "I am, after all, _very_ ill."

She rolls her eyes. "So ill, in fact, you shouldn't be working."

"I agree." Ruth chimes in. "And, you know, you could be socializing with your family."

"Fine. Ruth, would you like to help me prep for Monday's trial?"

Ruth, very maturely, sticks out her tongue.

"As I thought. So, Donnatella, let's go through our cross questions."

Reluctantly, she settles in. She takes a seat on the bed and removes her coat and purse. She mentally prepares herself for a morning of dull hospital colors, the smell of antiseptic, and mental rigor. Longingly, she thinks of the pot of coffee, massive pile of coursework, and cocoon of blankets waiting for her at her apartment.

"So, when they call the manager to the stand, we..."

They only make it a few questions in before they're interrupted. Josh strolls in, phone in one hand, and the room brightens considerably.

"How's Leo?" Noah asks.

"He's..." Josh stops inside the doorway, having noticed Donna's presence. His expression changes to pleasant surprise. "Hi."

"Hi." She greets, equally surprised.

Noah tries to conceal a grin. "Josh?"

"Hm? Oh." He walks the rest of the way into the room, and takes a seat next to Donna on the bed. "He's good. He's having a bit of a... Crisis in confidence."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. About his rust belt strategy. But I talked him down."

"Isn't it your rust belt strategy?"

"Yeah."

"He's right to be worried." Noah mutters. Ruth reaches out and pinches him.

Josh turns hesitantly to look at Donna. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"I didn't know you'd be here, either." She says truthfully. But she's glad he is.

He smiles slightly, conveying wordlessly that he's glad too.

"Well, if you're quite done marveling at the fact that you both exist, I believe we have some more prep work to get through." Noah interrupts amusedly.

"Right. Go on, sir."

And go on he does. He doesn't manage to take Donna's attention with him, however. She can't focus on much of anything except for the man sitting next to her. There is only about a foot of space between them, and she can feel electricity crackling in every square inch of it. Surely she isn't the only one to have noticed - he, too, seems tensed, his eyes occasionally flicking in her direction.

Their hands rest on the bed between them, and she feels another one of her dangerous impulses take up residence in her stomach. She wants to touch him. She wants, stupidly, to grab at his hands, which had felt so good on her only a week ago, and intertwine their fingers in an act of absent-minded affection.

What's wrong with her?

Evidently, the phone call hadn't quite resolved everything.

Her hand twitches daringly, so she clasps it determinedly in her lap. She tries to ignore the dense foot of tension beside her and refocuses on her boss. She responds to one of his questions with as much sense as she can.

Just when she's getting back into the groove of things, the bed vibrates beside her. Her neck practically snaps, having finally found an excuse to look at him.

"Sorry." He mutters. "I'll be right back."

She definitely does not watch him leave.

Five minutes go by, in which Donna preps with Noah with about seventy-five percent of her usual effectiveness, which is an improvement. But during a lull, she can't help seizing the opportunity to escape.

"Sir?"

He doesn't look up from his paperwork. "Yes?"

"Is it okay if I take off? I have a meeting with my advisor at eleven." She lies.

"Oh. Yes, that's fine. Give Julia my regards."

"Of course, sir." She stands, relieved. "Bye, Ruth."

"See you soon, Donnatella."

"Dinner. Right." She smiles and heads out of the room. She glances both ways down the hallway. To her right is the elevators. To her left, Josh leans against the wall, talking on his cell phone.

Her mind and body must be having serious communication problems today, because she goes left. She slows in front of Josh, perhaps a bit closer to him than is necessary, and he watches her curiously.

"Sorry, Toby, could you repeat that? No, I'm listening. Yeah, go ahead."

As she has been wanting to do for twenty minutes, she reaches out and takes the hand he isn't holding his phone with. His eyes widen. He allows her to intertwine their fingers, a somewhat amused look on his face.

"Toby? I'm going to have to call you back. Something really weird is happening." He snaps his phone shut and puts it in his pocket, which she takes as reason enough to grab his other hand. "What the hell are you doing?"

"You know how I said this should be a one time thing?"

"Yeah."

"I'm starting to think that maybe... I was being a little rash."

"Oh, were you?" He stands up off the wall, bringing them closer together.

"Yes." She has no way of knowing what vibe she's giving off. She's going for effortlessly cool, flirty, and uncaring, but for all she knows she looks bug-eyed and crazy.

"So then what do you think now?"

"Tell me I'm not the only one that felt that, in there."

"Felt what?" He says breezily, likely trying for the same vibe that she is. He, too, is failing.

"Josh."

"You're not the only one." He admits.

She gains confidence. "Okay. So. This obviously isn't going to work. Us having to see each other all the time, and having all of this..."

"Tension?" He supplies.

"Yes." She concurs. "And, well, obviously, we're not going to work out as... Anything."

"Come again?"

"Romantically. There's no point in pretending this is going anywhere." She isn't sure, but she thinks he looks a little hurt, so she presses on. "I mean, you're never here. And however the election turns out, you'll end up back in DC. And I'll be here, working the job your father has offered me."

"Right." He says slowly.

"Not to mention the fact that I'm not looking to be involved with anyone, right now. I've got too much on my plate. It's my last semester, I've got classes to pass, a job, the bar to study for." You'd think she'd had this sermon prepared in advance, the way she's able to spin reasons off the cuff for him.

He's squinting at her, somewhat suspiciously. But he doesn't take his hands out of hers. "Donna?"

"Yeah?"

"Get to the point."

"Right." A blush has crept up her neck, as it seems to at the least opportune moments. "I was just thinking that, you know, when you're here..."

"Ah. I see." He grins impishly. "I'm getting it."

"Are you?" She says dubiously.

"You want a 'when in Vegas' type arrangement."

She's taken aback by how casually he says this. "Well. Yes." She admits, now fully flushed.

"I have to admit, I feel used." He teases.

She retracts her hands from his and glares at him. "Okay, it was just a suggestion, but-"

"Donna." He interrupts her, and skips taking her hands back to pull her in by her waist. "I'm kidding."

"You're a jerk."

"Honestly? I'm not opposed."

"You're not?"

"I felt like my neck would snap, sitting next to you without looking at you."

She relaxes in relief. "Me too."

"And, if I'm going to be around a lot anyway..."

"My thoughts exactly!"

"It makes sense."

"I'm very practical." She says seriously.

Absently, he begins rubbing circles on her ribcage with his thumb. "No strings attached?"

"No strings attached." She echoes firmly. He looks somewhere between dubious of this assertion and disappointed by it. She feels the same way.

"I've got one condition."

"You're making this sound like a political negotiation."

"Everything is a political negotiation." He says dryly, and she can't tell if he's kidding.

"Okay. What's the condition?"

"I don't want my father to know."

"Oh." She says, surprised. "I... Okay."

"It's like this." He begins apologetically. "I don't want him to think that every time I come by to see him, it's because of you. I want him to know I care about him, genuinely, and want to be there for him. We've had enough trouble with this whole thing as is, and I don't want him to think I'm using him-"

"-as an excuse to get laid?"

"Well, yeah." He confirms sheepishly.

"That makes sense."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She says easily. She doesn't want to see Noah hurt any more than he does.

"Well. Okay then."

"Okay then." She repeats, and can't help a smile. For once, her impulses may have guided her somewhere good. She can indulge her crush while simultaneously protecting herself from all risk; she can have her cake and eat it too. "But, if you really don't want your dad to know?"

"Yeah?"

"You should maybe let go of me." She inclines her head toward Noah's room.

"Right." And yet, he doesn't.

"How long are you here for?"

"Another hour, maybe."

"Damn. And your absence would probably be conspicuous."

"Probably." He affirms.

"This sucks. A day in Vegas, wasted."

"Not necessarily. It's not uncommon for me to take more than half an hour on the phone."

"And where are you proposing we go, to spend these next twenty minutes?"

"There's gotta be an on-call room around here, somewhere."

"You can't be serious."

"It's up to you. You can go, if you want."

"...I think I passed the on-call room on my way up. Follow me."

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 **Agh, these two! So annoying, right? And agh, me! I'm just yanking you all over the place with this story, aren't I? I hope you're not too mad, because I've got a fair bit of yanking left to do before story's end.**

 **Let me know your thoughts/feelings/predictions/favorite milkshake flavor/whatever you want to tell me!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: It would appear your persistence has paid off! I've got another installment for you. You guys are the best, I'm loving how invested you are in this story.**

 **Also, to all of you who actually left me your favorite milkshake flavor, you guys are the cutest. I'm going to start asking cutesy questions like that at the end of all my chapters to get to know you better. My favorite milkshake flavor is peanut butter, for those of you that were wondering.**

 **To Pippythewriter - Oh my god I love CookOut! I did my first two years of undergrad in Virginia, and I basically lived off Reese's milkshakes and the $4.99 trays. Glad to find a kindred spirit.**

 **To the lovely db - Don't give up on me! I'll try harder. I know you're making allowances for me here and I love you for that :) Thanks for the good faith!**

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Two weeks go by, away from Vegas. He calls sometimes and flirts with her, but not too often, and always with an excuse to ask about or for his father. She is grateful that she doesn't forget the sound of his voice, but overall the whole 'pretending not to care' thing is strenuous and exhausting the longer he's away.

Not that she cares.

Clarissa's parents come into town for a weekend, and Donna must complain about having to sleep on the couch so much and so often that Noah mentions it to Ruth, because soon enough she gets a call about having an 'abundance of rooms' and 'plenty of food to go around' and a bed that's already made and waiting. So, for four nights, Donna ends up having the top floor of her boss's home pretty much to herself. She has to admit - it's a nice way to live.

Late Saturday afternoon, she's sprawled on the couch, studying. She hears the front door open, and then the sound of a conversation. She assumes that Noah and Ruth are coming in from the porch, but then she hears a third voice, now painfully familiar.

"No, he's going to have to make a choice, he can't get both states at this point... Oh." Josh stops short a few feet into the living room. "Hi."

She twists around to look over the back of the couch, and can't help a smile at his floored expression. "Hi."

"You're in my house."

"And here I thought you'd moved out."

He rolls his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

Noah brushes past him into the room, Ruth close behind. He looks distinctly amused. "She's staying here while her roommate's parents are in town."

"Oh."

"Be nice." Ruth adds, unknowing that an inability to be nice was the exact opposite of what he's worried about. She and Noah make their way into the kitchen.

"So, how's it going?" He asks, failing to sound casual. He drops his ever present backpack against the wall.

She grins. "It's good. Nice people, your parents. Very welcoming."

"Uh-huh." He swings over the back of the couch like he's sixteen. "You'll probably have gained ten pounds by the end of your stay. My mom's a feeder."

"Are you saying I look fat?"

"I am not."

"Okay. Good."

"In fact, you could probably use ten pounds."

"Oh, so now I'm too thin?" She prods, grinning ruthlessly.

"Is there any possible way for me to escape this conversation?"

"I've got work to do."

"Right." He doesn't move. He's close enough to her to be distracting, but she attempts to refocus on her work, nonetheless. "This is the part where you ask me how I'm doing."

"It is?"

"Generally, in polite society, yes."

"How are you doing, Josh?"

"Oh, I'm good."

"That's good."

"Yeah."

She decides to throw him a bone. "It's good to see you."

He smiles. "You too."

"You know I'm not sleeping with you while I'm staying here, right?"

"Yeah, I figured."

"Joshua! Come help us with dinner!"

Josh tilts off the couch, and leaves with a grin. On his way past her, he runs his fingers through her hair. She flicks his hand away with a smile.

Dinner manages to not be awkward, by virtue of the fact that Ruth controls the conversation. She keeps a consistent chatter going, only requiring odd answers from the other three. At one point, Josh and Noah get into an argument about the virtues of an "Anti-crime campaign," which is interesting.

"It doesn't take a political scientist to know that people don't like crime, dad."

"You know what else people don't like? Being sent to jail for cruel and unusual lengths of time for negligible crimes."

"That takes a lot longer to explain, and doesn't make for a good sound byte."

"Morality doesn't always make for a good sound byte."

"Dad, felons can't vote."

"Their friends and family can!"

"That's not who we're courting."

"Oh, so now you're not courting good, hardworking Americans, is that it?"

Conversation flows, as does food and laughter. Donna is surprised to find that she doesn't feel out of place at all. She'd had pleasant dinners with Ruth and Noah before, but figured with their son there as well, the dynamic might shift. And, it did. But she doesn't mind it.

As they're clearing plates, Josh announces, "Okay. After this, the movie."

"What movie?" Ruth inquires absently.

"The Godfather."

"It's a special occasion, is it?"

"Donna's never seen it."

"Oh, heavens. And Noah lets her work for him?"

Noah has stopped moving and is staring at his intern with a look of horror. "You've - You've never seen-" he splutters.

Donna shakes her head in amusement. "So this obsession is a family trait?"

Both Josh and Noah nod with conviction. "It's like this, Donnatella. The Lyman men are simple."

"We like the Mets."

"We like history."

"We like politics."

"They're stubborn as all hell." Ruth chimes in from the kitchen.

They ignore her. "And we _love_ -"

" _The Godfather._ " They finish in unison.

Donna can't help a chuckle at this well polished routine. "I see. Thanks for the info."

"You're watching the movie, Donna."

Noah nods in accord. "You must, if you'd like to have a job come Monday."

"Cultural education is a must at dad's firm."

"Cultural education that stops at Marlon Brando films?"

"Precisely!"

After cleaning up dinner, they settle into the living room for Donna's cultural education. Ruth sits on the couch beside her, and makes a few snide remarks about how she's never really cared for Al Pacino. Her husband and son consistently shush her.

Halfway through the film, Noah begins to nod off, tired from the week's treatment and his hard work. He brushes off Ruth's first few attempts to get him to go to bed, but finally submits the fourth time she asks. He allows himself to be led upstairs, and Ruth bids them goodnight.

They're left alone on the couch together. After a moment of hesitation, Josh dramatically holds out his arm. "Okay. Fine."

She looks over at him in confusion. "What?"

"C'mere."

She catches on to his implication and sends him a glare. "I don't need to be _held_ to make it through this movie."

He lowers his arm, smirking. "If you say so."

"I do."

"You just look pretty shell-shocked, that's all."

"I'm fine!" She snaps, only causing him further amusement. She holds out for another ten minutes, but the car bomb scene gets her. "Jesus Christ!"

She's leapt onto his side of the couch in an instant, and he can't help but laugh.

"I liked her!"

"Michael liked her too."

"I hate this movie!"

"You're more of a rom-com person, I'll take it?"

"If you don't shut up, I'm leaving before the end of the movie."

He wraps one arm around her contentedly, letting her curl into his chest. "Noted."

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Three hours later, Donna is just starting to wind down from the jarring movie (with some help from her phenomenally boring appeals process reading) when there's a soft knock at her door. She looks up curiously as Josh peers around her doorway.

"No! No. Definitely not." She holds out one hand to ward him off. "You heard me this afternoon. Not while we're here."

"Would you relax? That's not what I'm here for." He enters her room fully, and she notices that he's carrying a laptop and several file folders. He's also still fully dressed. "I was wondering if I could work in here."

"Why?" She asks bluntly.

"I don't know, I guess I hadn't gotten my fill of you verbally abusing me yet today." He says sarcastically.

She rolls her eyes. "I could've been asleep."

He gives her a disbelieving look. "After the way you were shaking during the movie?"

"I wasn't shaking!"

"Whatever." He sits on the foot of her bed. "You have to admit, though, great film."

She shrugs and gives him a maddening smile. "It was okay."

"Okay? _Okay_?"

"You can work here, if you want." She ignores his incredulity, settling back against the headboard. "But don't try anything."

"You got it." He clambers up beside her and also leans back against the headboard, his shoulder pressed against hers. He props open his laptop, spreads out some paperwork (ignoring the disgruntled sound she makes at this) and starts typing something. She peers surreptitiously over his shoulder; in one window, there are graphs which she deduces to be polls, in another, he's writing an email.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to solve our message problem."

"What message problem?"

"Do you know what our message is?"

She fumbles. "Um."

"There you go." He shakes his head in frustration. "That's our message problem."

"Right. What's your message supposed to be?"

"Right now we're trying to shift our focus to economic justice. The problem is that with state-by-state primaries, we're working too hard on pandering to regional concerns and we're not looking broadly enough."

"And how do you propose to fix that?"

"I'm trying to swing another stop in New Hampshire this week. If we give a speech in our home base about something, they know we're serious about it."

She rests her head on his shoulder, staring sidelong at the polling charts. "I don't know that that's true."

"What do you mean?" He continues typing, not really listening to her.

"You're in Iowa this week, yes?"

"Yeah, so everything's being shoved to the back burner, and we're focusing on goddamn corn of all things-"

"Don't give the Iowa speech."

"What?"

"Don't give an Iowa heavy speech. You may think that pandering is going to help you break through the pack, but it's not. Lead with whatever you'd lead with in New Hampshire, and fit in the regional stuff where you can. But make it about how your national stuff fits their interest."

"I'm not sure I..."

"It's not a risk in New Hampshire. That's your home court. You've gotta bring it somewhere else for people to take you seriously."

He stops typing, and cranes to look at her for a minute. "Hold on a second." He gets his phone out of his pocket and calls someone on speed dial. "Toby? Yeah. It's me. Here, hold on. I've got someone here with a pitch for you. Tell me what you think."

He holds out his phone for her to take, but she just stares at it. She rears her head back in surprise. "You want me to...?"

"Take it. Pitch."

"I can't." She shakes her head fervently, her heartbeat beginning to sound in her ears. This is a national campaign. She can't actually change the course of a national campaign - or even attempt to change its course - can she?

"You can." He encourages. His eyes flick back to the screen. "I'll give you numbers where you need them."

She attempts to steady her hand as she reaches out to take the proffered cell phone. "Um, hi."

"Well." A gruff voice greets her on the other end of the line. "Start talking."

"Right." She takes a deep breath. "Right, well, I know you guys have been talking about trying to hone your message in New Hampshire, but I don't think that's the way to go..."

She explains her premise to Toby. He listens with only an occasional grunt, and she rambles minorly. Josh pulls up useful data for her to reference. At the end of her pitch, she waits nervously.

"Huh." Toby pauses. "That's good." He says abruptly. "Put Josh back on."

Numbly, she does as asked. Josh nods, listening to Toby. "Okay. Sounds good. Yeah, send it to me. Okay. See you." He closes the phone, and gives her a smile. "He's starting a draft."

"He... Is?"

"Yeah. You sold him." He seems amused by how taken aback she is by all of this.

"The communications director for a national campaign... Just took my advice?"

"Yeah." He gives her another grin. "Feels good, right?"

"That's one word for it." She nods slowly. She feels a smile start to spread across her face.

"It doesn't go away." He says, disarmingly genuine.

She can imagine feeling like this all the time. The combination of the work that she'd be doing and the guy she'd be doing it with are alluring. She slumps back down against his shoulder, and pulls her dull appeals process reading back toward her.

 _It doesn't go away._ She wants to know if he's right.

But she'll never take that leap.

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Donna wakes up feeling slightly puzzled. She blinks a few times and realizes that it's because of the other person in her bed. He's also starting to stir, and she hears the telltale ruffle of papers. They'd fallen asleep while working.

She realizes that this is the first time they've actually _slept_ together. She'd slept well. She feels warm and content, and curls even closer to him.

"Josh."

"Mm?" He opens his eyes.

"We fell asleep."

"Right."

"You should probably head back to your room."

"What's the rush?" He wraps one arm around her, pulling her closer. Suddenly, she can't really remember what the rush is.

"Um."

He brings his hand to the back of her head, and kisses her deeply. It's the kind of early morning kiss where reality hasn't quite settled in yet, and inhibitions are down. She responds in kind, and tugs his shirt loose from his belt so that she can reach under it. She feels disproportionately irritated that he's wearing a belt.

Next thing she knows, his hand is slipping under her pajama pants and all she can manage is to bite his lower lip and keep undressing him. What she definitely can't manage is remembering why in the hell she hadn't done this last night. That is until there's a knock on the door.

"Shit."

They untangle themselves hastily, and attempt to steady their breathing. Donna clambers out of bed, some paperwork falling out with her, and gives Josh a panicked stare. He shrugs, his expression similar to hers. She wordlessly conveys for him to stay quiet as she rearranges her clothing and goes hesitantly to open her door.

She opens it just a crack, so that it's impossible to see past her, and finds Noah standing in the hallway, hands in the pockets of his terry cloth robe. "Donnatella!" He greets.

"Sir." She manages to squeak out.

"I was making some breakfast down in the kitchen and was wondering if you'd like to join me." He is bright, cheerful, and bald, not unlike a garden gnome.

"Um." She finds herself nodding. "That sounds great, sir. I'll be down in a few minutes."

"Fantastic!" Noah enthuses. He grins as he gestures past her head into her bedroom. "And if you could bring my son with you when you come down, that would be wonderful."

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 **Not much gets past Noah! That's gonna be one hell of an awkward breakfast.**

 **Thoughts? Feelings? Predictions? The song you currently can't stop listening to?**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: What? Another update so soon? What can I say. You guys have inspired me.**

 **With all your love and feedback, I can't help but want to give you more. Also, those songs you guys gave me? Great. Some of them I knew and loved (Brothers in Arms, She Used to Be Mine, Passionfruit lol), some of them were great new finds. You guys evidently don't just have great taste in shows, but in everything :) A song I can't stop listening to this week is Head On by the Jesus and Mary Chain.**

 **Btw, I've finally got my chapters laid out, which should help too. Until now I've just been sort of free handing it and seeing where things go. Now I've got 14 chapters planned out, and a possible epilogue. So we're halfway there!**

 **Oh and to Pippythewriter - I'm working on a new chapter for _What I Remember,_ just for you. **

**Love you guys!**

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"Sir, you're being snippy."

"Snippy? I'm not being snippy."

Donna purses her lips. "Sir, are you sure you're not offended?"

"No, no. Offended? Certainly not." He straightens his files. "I'm not allowed to be offended, because I have been very clearly informed that this is none of my business."

She sighs. "Sir, the only reason we didn't tell you is that we didn't want to hurt you."

Breakfast yesterday, on Sunday, had been uncomfortable to say the least. Not a word had been said over coffee, unless Noah's cheerful humming counted. He'd sat down with a platter of toast and fruit and looked between them with a smile. " _So, should I ask how long-"_

" _C'mon_." Josh stood up, and gestured for his father to do the same. " _Come on. Up."_

" _Joshua, I don't see why-"_ he got out of his seat, amused.

" _We're going out for a bit."_ He put his hands on his father's shoulders and pushed him toward the door. " _We'll be back."_

" _This seems a bit unnecessary, I must say-"_ Donna heard his protests up until the moment the door to the porch swung closed.

She waited, unnerved, for five minutes before she heard them clamber back inside. Josh gave her a smile. " _Dad isn't going to bother you."_

Noah, for his part, flopped into his chair with a loud harrumph.

The present Noah wears a similar expression. "Hurt me?" He balks.

"We thought that if you knew, you'd think Josh wasn't coming back because he cared about your health, but because-"

Noah waves her off. "I wouldn't have cared."

"Alright, sir. But we also didn't think it was going anywhere, so we didn't see the point in-"

"He's given me the whole spiel, Donna." He shakes his head disdainfully. "What the hell kind of arrangement is 'no strings attached,' anyway? This generation puzzles me to no end."

She blushes. "Sir-"

"Don't bother yourself. I've also been told, in no uncertain terms, to 'butt out'."

She frowns dubiously. "And you're okay with that?"

"He's grown. You're grown. And I'm certainly not keen to drive either of you away by sticking my nose where it doesn't belong."

"That's very considerate of you, sir. I'm glad to see you practicing restraint." A hint of amusement creeps into her voice.

"I try."

"I can get back to work, then?"

"I don't pay you to stand here and talk to me about your personal matters."

She smiles. "And you're really okay?"

"I am." He affirms, looking through his glasses at a memo.

"Okay."

As she retreats, she hears him mutter, "Though I think you're both being ridiculous."

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A few days later, the dust has settled, for the most part. Noah seems inclined to walk past Donna's desk with a curious expression whenever she is on the phone, and asks her once about her opinion on the campaign with an intent look on his face, but for the most part he lets the whole thing drop. She's left to conclude that he hadn't told Ruth, because she has yet to receive a phone call to discuss ideal times to go wedding dress shopping.

Things go back to normal. Normal, except for the slight thrill she feels when the phone rings. The way her bed has started to seem empty at night.

Thursday afternoon, the phone rings, and her anticipation is realized.

"Donnatella." He greets, as is usual for him. She doubts she'd ever heard him say 'hello.'

"Oh, hey you." She looks up from her coursework.

"How are things?"

"Good. Your father seems to be moving on."

"That's good."

"Yeah. How are things with you?"

"Good, good." He says quickly. There's something strange in his voice. Nervousness, maybe. "Listen, I wanted to ask you about something."

"Yeah?" She frowns at his tone.

"This whole thing we have. When in Vegas, no strings attached, whatever you want to call it. I was wondering... Ugh." He trails off in frustration.

"What is it?"

She hears him take a deep breath. "Okay, here's the thing. I was kind of propositioned today."

"...Propositioned?"

"Yeah. I mean, I don't know, hit on. Except definitely not subtly."

"By who?"

"Just someone on the campaign." He says evasively. "But I was just... I don't know. Is that a thing I can do?"

She swallows. She looks around for something to drink, but finds nothing. Her mouth feels incredibly dry, and her palms conversely damp. Her chest constricts. "Um."

"It's not a question I wanted to ask, but I figured it was better to get an answer than to just assume... You know."

She doesn't know what to do. What's she supposed to say? _Yeah, by all means go have sex with someone else? Knock yourself out? I'll just live with that image for the rest of my day?_

But she can't say no, can she? That's against the rules. The rules that she so painstakingly laid out.

"We said no strings, right?" She attempts to sound light and breezy.

"You're sure?" He asks dubiously.

"Of course. We aren't... We're not... Don't worry about it."

"Okay." He says flatly. He sounds confused. Maybe she doesn't sound as convincing as she'd meant to.

"Well, I've gotta go, so..." She lies.

"Right. I'll see you."

"See you." She hangs up, a gnawing pain in the pit of her stomach. This isn't supposed to hurt this much, is it? Casual. That's what they'd agreed - casual. But her heart hammering in her throat doesn't seem to have gotten the memo.

If she hadn't been quite so focused on her own response, she might've noticed the way his tone begged her to say no. To tell him that she cared, even a little bit.

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By late afternoon, Donna is miserable. She tries vainly to focus on studying, and even on some of the mindless organizational office tasks she'd planned for when she had no other priorities, but she can't. She's distracted by what might be happening in Iowa. Every time she thinks of hotel rooms; of Josh; of a leggy brunette in sleek skirts who has all the political acumen in the world, and _never_ would've dropped out of college for anything; of Josh... She wants to puke.

He had become so personal to her that she can't imagine him with anyone else. She realizes now that she had been naive. She is a fraction of his world, whereas he'd come to occupy too much of hers. All day, she feels sick.

At around 4:30, her coworker Marcus sidles up to the front of her desk and gives her a smile. "Hey Donna."

"Hey Marcus." She greets dully. She musters up half a smile.

He's a little older than her, probably in his early thirties, and had been a junior attorney at the firm since she'd joined. He's an obvious careerist, always sucking up to Noah in hopes to one day be made a partner, but overall he's seemed nice enough when she's worked with him.

"Are you okay? You've seemed a little down today. You hardly spoke in the staff meeting."

She shrugs, flustered that he'd noticed. "Oh. That. Well, I am, I guess."

"Can I ask what's bothering you?"

"It's just... A lot of things. School. Some friends. And... This guy." She admits.

He nods as though his suspicions have been confirmed. "I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

She shakes her head listlessly. "No, I don't think so. But thank you for asking, it's sweet of you."

He nods again. "Of course. Maybe I could take you out, though, after work? For drinks, or something. To cheer you up."

She blinks in surprise. She scrutinizes his smile, the hand on her desk, his demeanor, and realizes that this isn't just a friendly invitation. "Oh. Oh, I don't know."

"C'mon. It'll be fun." He sells her with his eyes. "I've always thought we should get to know each other better."

She thinks about Iowa, and hotel rooms. She thinks about perfectly tasteful jewelry and someone else touching him. She puts on a flirty smile. "You know what, Marcus? I think that's actually a great idea."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. I would love to come out with you."

"Great! After work?"

"You know, I've got a study group from six to eight, could we meet up after that?"

"Sure." He says easily. "Can I get your number? I'll call you around then and we can decide where to go."

"Of course." She smiles again and brushes his hand as she reaches for a pen and post it to write on. "See you then."

He grins, taking the post it from her. "See you."

Maybe she would've gone out with Marcus regardless of the circumstances. Maybe she wouldn't have. But all she knows is that if Josh is going to be seeing someone else, she's damn sure not going to let him be the only one.

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Come eight o'clock, Donna walks out of her study group, still feeling a touch ill. Marcus hasn't called yet. As she looks at her phone, waiting for it to ring, a terrible impulse sets in. She wants to call Josh. Maybe to torture herself, who knows. Maybe she wants to catch him in bed, to hear the woman laughing as he picks up the phone.

She dials his number. After ringing several times, someone finally picks up. It's a woman. Donna feels all the color drain from her face.

"Hello?"

"Um, hi."

"Were you calling for Josh? I can wake him up." Wake him up? Oh, God. It wasn't just sex, then. He'd slept with her.

"Oh, no. Don't bother. If you're in bed, I don't want to-"

"In bed?" The woman interrupts her. "In bed with Josh?" She begins to laugh, loudly and genuinely. Donna realizes she recognizes her voice. It's CJ Cregg, the campaign's spokeswoman. CJ's laughter eventually subsides into chuckles, and Donna can hear her catching her breath. "Oh, god that's a good one. Thanks for that. We're on the bus, do you want me to wake him up?"

Donna feels herself let out a breath of relief. Her nausea starts to subside. "Yeah, sure, that'd be good."

She hears CJ jostle him awake. _"Hey, idiot boy. Phone."_

Next, she hears his sleep worn voice, which she is thankful to be familiar with. "Hello?"

Turns out he can say 'hello,' after all. "Hey, it's me."

"Oh, hey. What's up?" He sounds more alert.

"Oh, not much. I was just calling to see how things went today." Not totally out of the ordinary, if Bartlet had an event she'd been interested in. Today he'd attended some sort of children's foundation event. "And to see how that thing you were asking me about earlier went for you." She can't help adding.

"Hold on a second." His voice becomes muffled. _"CJ, is there any chance you want to get up right now?"_

Evidently, there is no chance that CJ wants to get up right now.

"Okay, looks like I'm moving. Give me a second to get away from people."

"CJ Cregg seems nice." Much nicer, now that she's sure she hadn't been the one to proposition him. "And she's great at giving statements."

"Oh yeah." He agrees fondly. "She's something. We're lucky to have her."

"I'll say."

"So, about earlier." He has evidently found somewhere more secluded - or at least somewhere where more people are asleep.

"Yeah."

"I couldn't, um... I couldn't go through with it." He confesses sheepishly.

Her heart soars. "Really?"

He sounds almost embarassed. "Yeah, I mean... It felt like it would be cheating. And I know you said it wasn't, but I couldn't shake the feeling."

"Yeah. I get that."

"Also, Mandy is kind of scary." He adds in a lighter tone. "So I doubt the whole thing would've been that enjoyable."

She laughs, even though she doesn't know who Mandy is. She doesn't care anymore. "I don't blame you."

"Yeah." He laughs nervously. "But, um. You haven't... You wouldn't... Anyone else, right?"

He hasn't given proper grammatical construction to his thoughts, but now doesn't seem the time to mock him. She smiles softly. "No, I haven't. And... I don't think I would."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She sighs. "I don't know. This is starting to feel less like what we agreed on."

"No, it's fine." He says quickly. "We're still not anything. We're also just... Not anything with anyone else, either."

It's a lame excuse, she knows. But she's as eager to cling to it as he is. "Okay. I guess that's how things are, for now."

"For now." He agrees.

"Can I talk to you later? I've got another call coming in."

"Yeah, sure. Goodnight."

"Night." She takes her other call. "Hello?"

"Donna? It's Marcus."

"Oh, hi Marcus." In the past few minutes, she'd totally forgotten about him. She chews her lip.

"I was thinking maybe the place on Main Street? We can always walk down for ice cream, after drinks."

She hesitates. "You know what, Marcus? I'm sorry, but I don't think I can make it tonight."

"Oh." He says, stopped short. "Um... Can I ask why?"

"Something came up. I'm really sorry. Maybe some other time?"

"Oh. Oh, okay. Well, let me know."

"I will."

"Have a good night."

"You too, Marcus." She hangs up, feeling happier than she ever had at the prospect of a night alone at home. She'll be thinking of someone hundreds of miles away, knowing that he's spending the night alone too. And hopefully thinking of her.

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It's late the following Monday, and Donna is the only one left in the office. Marcus had left not long ago, trying vainly to make eye contact with her on his way out. She'd remained diligently buried in her work.

She knows what she wants tonight. The problem is asking for it.

She caves at eight. She calls him.

"Donnatella." He now has her on his caller ID, ensuring that he'd never have to greet her with something so bland as 'hello.'

"Hey. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing good. We just wrapped up our last event at seven. What's going on with you?"

So he's clear for the rest of the night, she notes. She ignores his question. "You guys are in Boston tonight, right?"

"Yeah, we are."

"That's only ninety minutes away."

"...Yes, it is." He says hesitantly, starting to cotton on to her intent.

"How integral are you to whatever the campaign is doing right now?"

"Pretty integral."

"Oh. Pity."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, it's just that we've got a lot of prep work for tomorrow. I guess I'm not really keeping operations up single-handedly, but... I am busy."

"Huh."

"It's only been a week." He reminds her.

 _Nine days,_ she doesn't correct him. "It's getting harder." She tells him.

"I could make a filthy joke about what you just said, but..." She hears him sigh. "Yeah. It is."

"I just want..." She trails off, frustrated.

"What?"

"I just want..." She rests her head on her hand, and feels the heat through her fingers. Though she'd boasted to him her ability to talk dirty, this is uncharacteristically hard. Maybe because what she's about to say is so painfully true, that she doesn't want to face the possibility he'll say no. "I just want to touch you." She admits, giving away more in her tone than she'd wanted to.

She doesn't hear anything on the other end of the line for a minute. "...Josh?" She says hesitantly.

"You know what I'm doing right now?"

"What?"

"I'm walking out of the hotel, and I'm hailing a cab."

An hour and a half later, she opens her apartment door, and he practically tumbles into her. She smiles against his mouth, and tries not to feel anything else. Just this. Just him.

But she does feel one other thing, as she wraps her legs around him and lets him carry her down the hallway, her hands in his hair. She feels strings.

Hundreds and hundreds of strings attached, wrapping around her and making it harder and harder for her to breathe.

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 **Lmao, no strings attached my ass. Nice try though, guys.**

 **Okay, so: thoughts? Feelings? A book you loved as a kid?**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long since my last update. The end of this semester is kicking my ass.**

 **Anyway, I'm so glad to see how much you guys care about this story. I got so many frickin' reviews on the last chapter, oh my god! Like 18 or something crazy. I love you guys so much, and I'm trying my darnedest to not disappoint you.**

 **I hope you enjoy chapter eight!**

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At 12:00, Donna glances at the office door, excitement gleaming in her eyes. By 12:15, she's fidgeting. By 12:30, she's humming happily and checking her watch every few seconds. When they finally arrive at 12:37, she can hardly contain herself.

The thing is, she's heard a lot about this guy. She can't wait to meet him, and see if he stacks up. And beyond that, he'll be able to give her some context and insight into Josh, which should be fun.

It should also be fun to use this to mess with Josh relentlessly.

Sam Seaborn trots into the office close behind Josh, smiling amicably and looking almost as excited as Donna is. He looks exactly as she'd come to recognize him on TV; a dead ringer for most Abercrombie models, with a distinct air of prep school darling. He casts his gaze about curiously, narrowly avoiding tripping on the threshold.

"Looks the same as when I was last here."

"It is the same as when you were last here."

"Oh. That explains it."

They slow in front of her desk, and Josh takes in her unrestrained enthusiasm. He looks distinctly reluctant to introduce them. Luckily, Sam beats him to the punch.

He finishes inspecting the space and his eyes land on her, widening considerably. "Is this her?"

Donna raises her eyebrows quizzically, asking Josh with her eyes, 'Oh, so you've mentioned me?'

He ignores her. "Sam, this is Donna. Donna, Sam."

Donna sticks out her hand with a wide smile. "Hi Sam. It's nice to meet you, I've heard so much about you."

"Back at you." He says easily, accepting her handshake. He fails to notice the reproachful glare Josh sends him at this. "Hey, you're really attractive. Josh, she's really attractive."

Josh looks kind of like he wants to die. "It's funny, I'd noticed that."

"You didn't mention how attractive she is." Sam gives her a charming smile, and she takes it that he's not being a pig so much as he's messing with his best friend - something that Donna is more than keen to play along with.

"That's because I'm not a pig."

She's comforted to hear this. She'd long since gathered that most of his swagger and cockiness is an act, but had held out fear that the act might extend to gross locker room talk and frat boy antics. Thankfully, it doesn't seem to.

She continues to smile sweetly at Sam. "And Josh, you didn't mention what gorgeous friends you have."

Josh rolls his eyes. "If you two are quite done marveling at how attractive you are, I'm going to get my father."

"We'll be here. You know, marveling."

He waves her off and stalks over to his father's office, knocking once before entering. Donna laughs and the rests her chin on a hand, gazing up at Sam. "That was fun."

He grins. "Yeah."

"I'm a big fan of your writing, you know."

He blinks, disarmed. "Hey, thanks."

"You bet."

There's something in the way he's looking at her. Something... Guarded? Suspicious, maybe? She can't place it.

"Samuel!" Noah bursts forth from his office, grinning. "It's been too long!"

"Mr. Lyman." Sam allows Noah to engage him in a strange half-hug, half-handshake situation.

"For god's sake, boy, you've only known me for seven years. It's Noah."

"Right. Of course." Sam indulges him, though Donna can tell he'll likely have trouble following through on this.

"Seven years?" Donna asks curiously.

"Yeah, about seven years." Sam confirms. "Josh and I both started out on this doomed freshman congressional campaign when we were both pretty fresh out of law school. We lived together in DC for, what, two years?"

Josh nods. "Before you abandoned me."

Sam looks at him with a tired indignation, as if they've had this fight many times. "I didn't abandon you."

"He was jealous of my success." Josh informs Donna seriously. Noah chuckles dryly.

"I was not!" Sam protests. "It's just that not every twentysomething living in DC gets handpicked by a leading senator to join their staff, and some of us had bills to pay."

Josh waves a hand. "Sellout."

"Just because I joined the private sector-"

"You're a trust fund kid, you didn't need the money!"

"I needed the accreditation, and I wasn't going anywhere with-"

"Boys, boys!" Noah calls out over them. He shakes his head scornfully. "God, it's lucky I never had another son."

Josh and Sam simmer down, giving each other good natured looks of exasperation.

"What matters is that you're on the same team now. Now, can we please go to lunch?"

"By all means."

Noah looks between them to Donna, who is holding down her amusement. His eyes take on a devilish gleam. "Donnatella? Would you care to join us?"

"I would, sir. If that's okay with you, boys?" She asks, mainly for Josh's benefit.

"Fine with me!" Sam says cheerfully.

Josh rolls his eyes. He grabs her coat off the hook and holds it out for her. "Come on."

She jumps out of her chair, beaming. Sam and Noah watch them, both with amusement, and Sam with a touch of something else.

Noah leads them out the door, not bothering to ensure they're close behind him, and Sam catches it to hold it open. He gives Donna a smile. "After you."

On his way past, Josh bumps into him. "Watch yourself there, pal."

There's something there, Donna decides. Perhaps she'd mistaken it, or read too much into the split second. But the way that Sam's eyes flickered, the way he half-smiled as Josh brushed past him, gives her pause. It was the same brief look she'd caught when Josh had rested his hand on Sam's shoulder while introducing them.

It seemed that Josh's hands-on, tactile personality - which meant that he was constantly casually touching people, without thinking much of it - is not taken quite so casually by Sam.

It's funny. She thinks that it's probably the way she looks, when Josh touches the small of her back or brushes her arm.

"I wasn't doing anything." Sam says innocently.

"Sure." Josh catches up with her, though they're still a few yards behind Noah. "You know, Sam wouldn't even be on the campaign if it wasn't for me." He boasts. Obviously, this is some sort of brotherly pissing match to him. Donna looks to Sam for confirmation.

Sam shrugs, smiling almost shyly. "It's true, actually. I'd be making a lot more money right now, if it wasn't for him."

"Sam was a corporate lawyer." Josh explains.

"A pretty successful one." Sam adds.

"What was it that swayed you?" Donna asks.

"Idealism. Passion."

"That, and how can you say no to this face?" Josh asks.

Donna realizes that maybe it hadn't been Sam's own idealism and passion to sway him, but someone else's. A certain smile. A certain feeling he'd left behind in DC.

Maybe Sam is obsessively idealistic, and romantic, and believes in Bartlet more than anything else. He certainly seems to, the way that he's been serving the campaign. But maybe, initially, there was romanticism of a different kind involved in the decision.

He was just beginning to make his own way, and he gave it up for a guy. That's one thing that Donna, of all people, can relate to.

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Lunch is, for the most part, fun. Noah and Sam catch up eagerly, as they're clearly fond of one another. Noah gets in a few digs at the boys' campaign strategy and the minor gaffes of the past few weeks. Sam and Josh devolve into an incomprehensible aside only once, about some fundraising event that week. Donna keeps up, and manages to ask Sam about things like his fiancé (his answers are quite bland) and what Josh was like at 27 (his answers are anything but bland).

Donna regrets ordering a salad, and thus swipes some of Josh's fries. He starts a scuffle under the table, which ends with Noah looking up abruptly and saying " _Ow_."

Noah eats his steak sandwich more slowly than usual, and a thin sheen of sweat is noticeable on his forehead. But he is so cheerful and enthusiastic, the others are able to look past it. But then, toward the end of the meal, he pauses and sets his sandwich down. He starts to slowly rub a spot on his chest, his brow furrowed.

"Dad?" Josh notices, and his face tightens in concern. "You okay?"

Noah shakes his head dismissively, covering his mouth with a napkin. After a moment, he lowers it and gets out of his chair. "I'll be right back."

Josh stares after him. He blinks, looking between the other two. "I should..."

"Yeah." They agree. It doesn't escape Sam's notice that Donna squeezes his hand before he bolts from the table and follows his father.

They're left in a somewhat uncomfortable silence. "I hope he's okay." Donna says.

"Yeah." Sam agrees. "Josh, um, told me the cancer recurred. Has he been doing well, with the treatment?"

"Mostly." Donna shrugs. She feels guilty that she'd been a bit distracted, these past few weeks. "He's at a slower pace, these days. But you know how he is. You can't tell him anything."

"Runs in the family." Sam offers half a smile.

Donna grins. "Yeah. Yeah, I've noticed."

Sam shifts awkwardly. He glances once, furtively, toward the restroom, from which Noah and Josh have yet to emerge. "So, you and him..."

Donna stiffens, equally awkward. She looks down at the napkin in her lap and toys with the seam. "Oh. Yeah, well. It's, um..."

"You don't have to explain anything to me." Sam interrupts. "I just wanted to tell you something."

"Oh." Donna looks up hesitantly. "Yes?"

"I, um." He shakes his head, smiling slightly. "Look at me. A speechwriter, lost for words."

Donna smiles. "It's okay."

"It's just that... I've known Josh a long time."

"Right." She braces herself for the lecture. The 'I just don't think you're right for him,' or something similar.

"And Josh doesn't really get invested in relationships. Like, ever."

"...Okay." Great. So now it's going to be, 'You know you mean nothing to him, right?'

Sam gives her a searching look. "But, I can tell he really likes you."

"...What?" She can't help but ask for clarification. She's floored.

Sam nods earnestly. "Yeah, I really think he does. It's hard to tell with him, of course. But the way he talks about you, like he's trying way too hard to act casual. The way he looks when he calls you, or hell, the way he acts when he gets back from Connecticut. It's... Something. Seriously."

"...Seriously?"

"Yeah." Sam nods again, and picks up his fork, intent on busying himself with eating. His plate is empty. "Now, I don't know exactly what you two have going on. And I don't want to butt in, or make you uncomfortable, or anything. But I just wanted you to know that. And to consider it, going forward."

"I see."

"Because he's my best friend." Sam adds with conviction. "And I don't want to see him hurt."

Donna tries vainly to find something to say to Sam, to reassure him. But this is just so unexpected. She'd never really thought of it that way before. She was out to protect herself - she hadn't even considered the possibility that Josh might have something on the line, as well.

"I understand." She manages.

"Good." Sam says, his uneasiness fading. He moves on forcefully. "So, you graduate in May?"

"Yes, this is my last semester."

She numbly carries on the lighthearted conversation with Sam. But her mind is elsewhere.

She decides that she likes this man. His affection for Josh is so deeply unselfish. Though he knows it will never be with him, all he wants is for his friend to be happy.

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"And you're leaving at what time?"

"I'm leaving after my three o'clock."

"At what time?"

"I may stay to do some office work, but-"

"You're leaving at _what time?_ "

Noah sighs dramatically. "I will leave by four o'clock, Joshua."

"That's right." Josh confirms. "And don't think I'm not prepared to sick mom on you."

Noah gapes at him. "You wouldn't."

"And Donna. I'm sicking Donna on you."

Donna gives him a cheerful thumbs up. "At four o'clock, I'm shoving you out and locking he door."

"You're fired." Noah grumbles.

"Impervious."

"And when you get home, you will-"

"Do whatever the hell I want." Noah snaps.

"Let's try this again. When you get home, you will-"

"Write you out of my will."

"Dad."

"I'll take it easy! I'll lay down! I'll be an invalid, are you happy?"

Josh smiles. "Yes. Elated."

"I may clean out the rain gutters first, but-"

"No you won't."

Noah waves him off and slumps into his office. "I'm checking my messages."

"I'll come in to say goodbye." Josh calls after him. He turns back to Donna, who is taking off her coat and settling back into her desk space. Sam helpfully takes her coat and hangs it up for her. "You think he'll be okay?"

Donna gives him a reassuring look. "Yeah. I'll watch out for him. He should be okay, it's just an easy meeting that he can sit for. He hardly needs to be awake for it, honestly."

"Right." Josh takes a deep breath. "Right. He'll be fine."

"And if he starts to fade, I'll get him out of here. I'll tell him Jenkins cancelled, I'll do something. Don't worry."

"I won't." He watches her sort through some notes on her desk. He shifts back and forth, deciding. "Hey, come with me for a minute."

She looks up. "Where?"

"Just, c'mon." She heads around her desk and he grabs her wrist, pulling her with him. "Sam, I'll be back in a minute. You can go in and say bye to my dad."

As she whips out of the room, she notices Sam's eyes on her. And Marcus's.

Josh leads her into the file room, and a grin splits her face. "You looking for a file?" She teases.

"Yeah. That's what I'm looking for."

This is where she first kissed him. The room hasn't felt the same since.

"I like Sam, you know." She tells him, ignoring the way he's looking at her, and the way his hands have found her waist.

"I'm glad."

"He's sweet."

"Sure."

"We had an interesting conversation, while you and Noah were gone." One that she can't get out of her head.

"Oh yeah?" He says disinterestedly, his hands roaming over her hips.

"Yeah." She smiles as the distance between them narrows. "You couldn't leave without this, could you?"

"It would've felt like a wasted opportunity."

"Well then, what are we doing, just standing around here?"

After all that they usually do, it feels distinctly high school, the way that they have to stop five minutes in with all their clothes on. But it's nice. Stolen moments. Mindless affection, without an end goal.

And Sam's words won't leave her alone.

When they emerge, Sam is trying too hard not to look at them. Marcus isn't.

"We've gotta go soon." Sam says. "Wheels up at three."

"Right."

"To Iowa, right?" Donna asks. "Good luck."

"Thanks." Sam says warmly. He follows Josh into Noah's office; apparently he hadn't taken the initiative to go in before, as Josh had suggested.

In the silence that follows, Donna tries vainly to get settled behind her desk and start working. But she can feel Marcus's eyes on her.

Finally, he says what's on his mind. "Is that him?" He asks abruptly.

Donna pretends not to know what he's talking about. "What do you mean?"

"Is that the guy? The one you told me about?"

"I don't..."

"The boss's _son_?" He tempers the accusation with a grin, as if he's teasing her, but there's something more menacing behind it.

"No." Donna denies. "It's not what you think."

"It's not?"

"No."

"You're not seeing him?"

"...No." It isn't a lie, per se.

Marcus scrutinizes her expression. Finally, he nods. "Okay."

Josh and Sam wend their way back through the office a few minutes later, and pause at her desk. Josh gives her an easy smile. Though after talking to Sam, she thinks he might be trying too hard to act casual.

"I'll see you."

"See you." She says warmly.

Sam extends a hand, and makes hesitant eye contact with her. "It was nice to meet you."

She takes his hand, and tries to convey how much she means it when she says, "You too."

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 **The first time I watched this show, I seriously thought Sam was straight. Now, I'm 200% with the head canon that he's bi, had a decade long crush on Josh, and only got over him when he met the love of his life, Ainsley Hayes.**

 **I wanted to put him in this story because the West Wing isn't the West Wing without at least some of the signature ensemble. And he made for a great plot point.**

 **Anyway! Thoughts/feelings/predictions/your best pun?**

 **Oh yeah and my favorite books as a kid were the Harry Potter series. To the person who said they got you into ff, me too! I'm a Harmony shipper, don't hate me.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey guys, I'm back! Thanks for all the feedback, and for the support with this end of the semester slog.**

 **Not a super long author's note because I've gotta post this quickly! Without further ado, here's chapter nine.**

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It's a typical Tuesday morning, by all accounts. At least, Donna is keen to treat it as such. It's February fourteenth, sure, but Valentine's Day isn't really her thing. The old Donna loved Valentine's Day. But new and improved, dedicated Yalie and recovering romantic Donna restrains her enthusiasm. She still buys the occasional heart shaped cookie, or smiles at her mother's mention over the phone of an affectionate gesture from her father. But no longer is she obsessed with having a date lined up for the night, or holds out hope for some overwrought romantic display.

Noah comes in later than usual, in a good mood. "Sorry, all. Was out to breakfast with Ruth. A happy holiday to you all."

As firm and stoic as her boss normally seems to be, Donna knows him to be nothing short of a shameless romantic. She has no doubt that he has sweet plans lined up for himself and his wife that evening. "That's a festive pocket square you've got there, sir." She remarks.

He looks down at his pale pink pocket square. "Thank you, Ms. Moss."

"You're welcome."

He slows in front of her desk, looking down with a curious smile. He tries vainly to hide the excitement in his eyes. "Those are nice flowers."

"Thank you." She says primly, not taking the bait.

"Might I ask who they're from?"

"My mother." She says shortly.

"Your mother sent you flowers on Valentine's Day?" He asks dubiously.

"Yes. It's a mother-daughter tradition of ours. She sends them to my sister, too."

He continues to look at her with thinly veiled suspicion. Eventually, he decides it best to move on, and shrugs. "How sweet. I'll be in my office for an hour, and then I presume you'll be accompanying me to court?"

"Yes." She gives him a smile. "Apparently they're backed up with divorce proceedings today. Ironic, no?"

Noah snorts. "I'll say. Perhaps I'll make that two hours of office work."

"Good idea."

In his absence, Donna settles happily into some paperwork. Unfortunately for her, she's soon distracted by Marcus's unnerving stare. She had hardly noticed him when she starting work here, but now, she dreads his presence. He sets her on edge.

"From your mother, huh?" He asks.

She barely glances up, intent on keeping this interaction short. "Yes."

"I thought they came with a card. Where did it go?"

She grits her teeth. "I put it away. I didn't want to lose it."

"Ah. Sentimental of you."

The truth is, the flowers aren't from her mother. Though her mother is sweet, and does have the Valentine's Day tradition of sending all of her children home baked cookies, not even she would send flowers to her daughter on such a romantic holiday.

No, when Donna had gotten in this morning, she'd been caught off guard by the flowers' presence. She'd read the card and immediately let out an uncontrollable giggle. A _giggle_. She curses herself for that now.

The card had read, _"How's Vegas?"_

She'd removed it, so Noah wouldn't happen to read it. Or Marcus, she supposes.

He doesn't seem to be picking up on her 'leave me alone' vibe. He lingers in front of her desk, in fact taking a few steps closer to her. "I thought they might be from a guy."

Donna suppresses an eye roll. "Yeah. I can see why you'd think that."

"But, I was wrong. Should I take it this means you also don't have any big plans tonight?"

 _I was planning on throwing darts at your picture, actually._ "Not really."

 _Going out with friends! I could've said I was going out with friends! God, I'm so stupid,_ she curses herself.

"Hey, me either. You think we could finally get that drink?"

"Oh. Um." She finally looks up at him fully, and gives a reluctant sigh. "I don't know, Marcus. I don't think so."

"Because of the whole Valentine's thing? Because it'll be totally casual, I swear."

"No, it's not that, it's..." She bites her lip. "It's just that I'm kind of seeing someone. If you could call it that. I don't know, it's complicated. But I'm just not looking to... Add anything to that right now."

He doesn't look too disappointed. In fact, he looks triumphant. "I knew it!"

She looks at him incredulously. "Knew what?"

"I knew it! It's him, isn't it? Noah's kid? God, I _knew_ it."

She feels the heat start to rise in her face, both from embarrassment and indignation. A coworker, Marlene, is watching them surreptitiously from an adjacent hall, and she doubts it'll be long before she's joined by half the office. "Please, keep your voice down."

He gives her an almost twisted smile. "You didn't deny it."

"You don't understand. It's complicated."

"Complicated!" He balks. "You're sleeping with the boss's son!"

Marlene's eyes practically bug out of her head, and a couple other faces rise tentatively out of their cubicles.

"Marcus, be quiet." She hisses. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"What is this, some long con to get ahead? Is this why Noah's so close to you, always giving you the good casework and toting you along to court? Because he's hoping one day you'll give him grandkids?"

"Marcus, please." She begs. "It's not like that."

"This is so unfair. Some of us have been working our asses off-"

" _I_ work my ass off." She feels the need to interject.

"-and you get all the attention because you're fucking the golden boy!"

"You're being ridiculous!"

"This situation is ridiculous! I'm sure everyone else agrees with me." He looks around the office, failing to notice that most of his coworkers' faces seem to indicate that they do _not_ agree with him. "We're going to have to take this to Noah. You can't just skate by, get in to Yale, get this job, get a promotion because you-"

"Because she _what_?" Someone interrupts dangerously. All heads swivel to face Noah. In the chaos, no one had noticed his door open.

Donna expects Marcus to back down. He's now not only called into question her current role, but everything she'd achieved on her own, and implied it was because she looked a certain way, or maybe even slept her way into it - fortunately, they hadn't heard the end of his sentence. And he'd done it in front of _Noah_ , his boss, who is more than obviously fond of her.

But Marcus doesn't back down. "Sir," he begins plaintively, "you must understand how this feels. To have worked here for five years, only to understand the reason you're being usurped by Barbie here-" he gestures scathingly, "-is that she's with your son."

"You're fired." Noah says coldly.

Marcus's jaw drops. "Excuse me?"

"I said you're fired." Noah repeats. "Are you deaf, in addition to being sexist and ambitious? Get your things and get out of here, I'm calling security in fifteen minutes."

Marcus's face is fifteen different shades of purple. "You can't possibly-"

"I can." Noah interrupts. "What are you going to do, sue me for wrongful termination? Accuse me of nepotism? That's all well and good, but I assure you, my boy, you wouldn't hold up in court."

There's an audible gasp from someone in the office at the stinging blow Noah just leveled. But he doesn't notice.

He goes on, "That is, after all, why you're being usurped by 'Barbie' here. If you weren't so busy poking into others' personal matters, you might have noticed that your own job performance has been lackluster from day one."

Marcus's shoulders slump. "I haven't-"

"And her name is Donna." Noah adds for good measure. "Speaking of which, Donna, you may wait in my office until he leaves."

"Thank you, sir." Donna doesn't look up as she hurries past them.

After the door closes behind her, Noah steps closer to Marcus, until there's barely a foot of space between them. In a low voice, he says, "And if I ever hear you so much as mention my son again, I will make it so that you never find a job in this state again, and your bar certification is worthless. Are we clear?"

Marcus swallows. "Yes, sir."

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Donna waits in Noah's office for the few minutes it takes him to come join her, and she spends it gathering herself together. She can't believe Marcus had gone off like that. But what she's most in awe of is how readily Noah had jumped to her defense. And though the others in the office might think otherwise, she's almost positive it hadn't had anything to do with Josh.

He brushes in, and gives her a harried glance. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, sir, but-"

"Good. We have a lot of work to do. Not the least of which is delegating Marcus's work for the week."

She smiles at his familiar attempt to brush past the subject. "Sir. I have to thank you."

"For what?"

"For standing up for me. For firing him."

"Donnatella." He sinks heavily into his desk chair. "I do not tolerate harassment in my workplace."

"Of course not, sir." She takes this as him telling her that his display had nothing to do with their personal connection.

But then he says, "And I will not have anyone doubting that you deserve to be here."

She finds herself smiling. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me. Just keep proving yourself. Preferably, by getting to work."

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Later that night, after things have calmed down, Noah leaves for his date night.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Donnatella."

"See you, sir."

"Go home, would you? You've had a long day."

She smiles. "Yes, sir."

After he's left, she starts gathering her stuff together. As she starts the walk home, she takes out her cell and calls Josh. After a few rings, he picks up with his usual greeting.

"Donnatella."

"Hey." She greets. "Thanks for the flowers."

She can hear the smile in his voice as he says, "What flowers?"

"They were beautiful."

"I just thought, you know. That you wouldn't be getting flowers from anyone else, so..."

"On the contrary. My desk is filled. They had to set yours on the floor."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She grins. "So. Is everyone on the campaign trail feeling the love tonight?"

He groans. "God, too much. This is a campaign for the presidency! This requires an around the clock effort! And yet half the staff is slinking off to hotel rooms."

"Don't you think they've earned the break? A strong third in Iowa is reason enough to celebrate."

"That's just it! Everyone's acting like we're in the clear, but this is the most critical moment. We need to push more, not back off."

"You sound sulky."

"I'm not." She can basically hear him roll his eyes. "It's just, Sam's holed up with his fiancée, tonight seems to be the one night of the year Toby and Leo's wives can stand them, the Governor and Dr. Bartlet begged off a while ago. Hell, even CJ is shacked up with some eighteen year old volunteer for the night."

"Aw. Somebody's lonely."

"I'm not lonely."

"Are you alone?"

"I'm not, actually. I've got my own eighteen year old intern who's been following me around all night, trying to get lucky."

"Do think she will?"

"Get lucky? I doubt it." He pauses. "You know what?"

"What?"

"I mean, what the hell? It's not like we're going to get any work done tonight anyway. I should just do it."

"...Are you saying you're going to sleep with your intern?"

He laughs. "No. I'm going to come to Connecticut."

"You are?" She perks up.

"I am. I assume you have no big plans for the night?"

"On my way to a hot date, actually."

"Great. I'll come by after that."

"Okay. That should work."

"I'll see you in a couple hours."

"See you." She hangs up, beaming uncontrollably.

She isn't sure which Donna is floating with excitement right now, the old romantic or the new professional. Maybe it's both.

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"I should go." He mutters reluctantly, only making a half-assed attempt to do so. The clock reads 1:04.

"Don't." She protests, pulling him back down toward her. "Don't go." She kisses his shoulder, and as he comes back into her grasp, his neck, his jaw.

"What, three rounds wasn't enough for you?"

"No. I mean, yes." She blushes. "But you don't have to go, I mean. Stay, you could use the sleep."

"I can sleep back in Philidelphia."

"But will you? Or will you just jump straight back into work?"

She has him there. He doesn't even know why he's fighting her in the first place. "Fine. But I've gotta be up by five."

"You can set my alarm. It won't bother me." She says happily, and as he reaches to grab her alarm clock, she rests her head on his chest.

She's growing accustomed to this feeling. The strange limbo, of being together but not being together. This isn't casual anymore, she can admit that. But she doesn't know what it is. The ambiguity is difficult, but she's learning to live with it. Defining it would be dangerous - to give it a name would be to give it weight, and meaning.

She just wants to fall asleep with him. Is that too much to ask?

He settles back into the pillows, and idly tangles one of his hands in her hair. The other trails up and down her back. She tries not to emit any audible purring sounds. She kisses his chest again once, for good measure.

"Night."

"Night." He kisses her forehead.

She drifts off easily, and he's out not long after. He watches her fall asleep. Neither of them has slept this well since their night together at the house.

Donna isn't really woken by her alarm clock. Sure, the faint buzzing irks her, but it's off soon enough, and she's able to curl contentedly against her bed partner, ready to sleep for a few more hours. What really brings her to reality is the loss of Josh beside her.

"Sorry." He mutters, extricating himself from her lanky limbs. When she makes a whining noise, he brushes some of her hair from her face and kisses her gently. "Gotta go."

"Hmph." She slumps back into the pillows. He gathers up his clothes from the night before and walks out. A minute later, she hears the shower going.

She hasn't been awake at five in the morning for a very long time. Thankfully, her work day starts at nine, and she hasn't taken any eight am classes since undergrad. She rarely woke up earlier than seven thirty.

But despite her grogginess, she knows that if she goes back to sleep now, she'll regret it. It's time wasted. What's a few hours less sleep, anyway?

She drags herself out of bed and down the hall. She opens the door to the bathroom without knocking, and opens the curtain in a similarly unannounced manner before clambering inside. Josh looks surprised, to say the least. But not unhappy.

"Look who's up."

"Water. Warmer." She requests.

He obliges, and then turns back to her. "You look tired."

"I am." She accents this point by letting her forehead drop to his shoulder. Water runs over her face, but she does nothing to stop it.

"You could've slept."

Her hands fan out over his shoulders. "Well I'm awake now."

And, God, five in the morning had never felt so good.

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At the office that day, Donna is perhaps a little tired, but in a fantastic mood. Noah seems similarly disposed when he walks in, and greets her cheerfully.

"Hello, Donnatella. How was your evening?"

"It was good, sir." She says quickly. "And you?"

"Oh, fine. Ruth and I tried this new restaurant, it was..." He stops in the middle of his sentence, staring at her. He seems unnerved. "I. Um."

"Sir? Are you okay?" She questions, concerned.

He shakes his head. "Fine. I just noticed. You have a bruise..." He gestures to his neck.

Her eyes widen. "I do?"

"You do." He clears his throat uncomfortably. His good mood has drained entirely. "I have some work to start in on."

"Sir..." She starts, not knowing what to say. But he's already gone. Hastily, she pulls a compact out of her purse and opens it. And there it is, plain as day. A _hickey_. Great, her first visible one since high school, and at such an opportune time. Evidently they hadn't been that careful, either last night or this morning. She guesses that it had been the latter, though.

She realizes suddenly what had so upset Noah. It wasn't the hickey. It was the fact that, as far as he knew, Josh had been in Philidelphia all night last night. So she would've had to have gotten it from someone else.

To tell him the truth would cause problems. Suddenly, they weren't just "when in Vegas," but two people who saw each other outside of convenience. People who actually went pretty far out of their way to see each other.

Is it worth the trouble? Should she just let him hate her for a while?

As the day goes on, it becomes more and more unbearable. He's incredibly cold to her, and speaks to her in three or four word sentences. He barely looks at her.

Finally, when he has been deftly ignoring her while she sits in his office, waiting for notes on the brief she'd drafted, she snaps. "Sir, what's wrong?"

He doesn't look up. "Nothing."

"Sir."

"Donna, I'm reading."

"Sir, you've been ignoring me all day."

"I just thought-" he begins to snap, but stops himself. He sighs in frustration. "I just thought... And then, with Marcus yesterday, I thought you were..." He trails off. "Forget it. Let's get back to work." He resumes his stiff tone.

"Sir, I didn't cheat on your son!" She says with perhaps too much enthusiasm, as his head snaps up from the brief with raised eyebrows. She lowers her volume. "Sorry. I just... I don't want you to think that I cheated on Josh. Because I didn't."

He composes himself. "How could you cheat on him? I have been informed many times over that you aren't even together."

"I know, but..." She bites her lip. "I don't know. I still didn't. I'm not that kind of person."

"Okay." There's still reservation in his voice. "But he..."

"He came into New Haven last night." She says, all in one breath. She doesn't look at him. "Just for a few hours. It was very late, and I'm sure he didn't want to disturb you. So, he... Spent them with me. And then he had to leave early this morning."

"He... Oh. Oh, I see." Noah tries to mask his reaction to this news. Donna sits before him, blushing profusely. "I'm sorry, Donna. You shouldn't have had to tell me that. I was overreacting."

"It's okay, sir." She manages. She still can't make eye contact with him, probably as a result of the fact that this entire conversation had come about as the result of a hickey.

For his part, Noah isn't upset that Josh hadn't called on his parents while in town. In fact, he's thrilled. Josh had come all the way from Philly, on Valentine's Day, to see her. It appears that this isn't quite so casual as they had made it out to be.

Noah resolves that it's due time for a good father-son talk.

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 **To db, the only one to comment on Marcus's shadiness - You were so right! Lmao.**

 **Anyway, let me know what you think!**

 **Thoughts/feelings/predictions/favorite movie?**

 **** _Update: I think the email notifications aren't working? Idk I've posted a few times lmk if you didn't get one or if you got like three_**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hey guys! I am so sorry for the long wait. You guys have been so sweet and encouraging during the break. To the person who climbed up a mountain for signal - lmao I see you! That's dedication. Sorry it's taken me so long.**

 **I got kind of discouraged when email notifications stopped going out, and then again when I realized I'd have to split this chapter up into two because it was getting to be too much. But that does mean that I've already got most of chapter eleven written, so that should be up soon, hooray!**

 **Anyway, thanks for sticking with me. You guys are the best.**

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Noah is naturally an early riser, typically waking at about 4-5 am. Usually, however, he stays in bed, or at least putses around the kitchen and makes coffee before going back to bed and reading until it's time for him to get up. He enjoys spending the time with Ruth, even if she sleeps through most of it and kicks him when he tries to talk to her.

But this morning, he has a plan. He gets up at four, makes his coffee, and heads out to the porch in his robe and pajamas. Predictably, Josh's rental car is missing from the driveway. Noah settles into a rocking chair and begins to rock back and forth, sipping his coffee and lying in wait.

A little before five, telltale headlights swing around the street corner, and a few moments later, Josh pulls into the driveway. He gets out of the car and idles his way up the path, treading carefully up the stairs and muttering " _fuck_ " when he accidentally kicks a potted plant in the darkness. He hesitates before the door and pulls out his keys. Evidently, he hadn't noticed Noah's presence.

"Good morning, Joshua." Noah greets casually.

Josh nearly falls off the porch. "Jesus Christ, dad!"

"What?"

"You scared the hell out of me! What are you doing out here, sitting in the shadows like a mob boss?"

"I was waiting for you."

"And the similarities to Al Capone just keep rolling in." Josh mutters. He takes a few deep breaths, and crosses the porch to stand in front of his father.

"Enough about me. I should be asking you what you're doing sneaking around at four in the morning."

Josh folds his arms and leans back against the railing. "Dad. You know I'm an adult, right?"

"In some respects."

"I don't live here. So we can do the whole 'sneaking out' bit, if it gives you some sort of nostalgia kick, but..."

"It doesn't give me any sort of nostalgia. You never snuck out at night."

"Not that you knew of."

Noah merely raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, dad, we both know I didn't! I was a huge nerd in high school, are you happy?" Noah grins. "Anyway, what are you doing out here? It's cold, let's go inside."

"I told you, I was waiting for you. I wanted to talk to you."

"...At four in the morning?"

"Yes. Just you and me. Father to son. And I thought that now would be an opportune time."

"Father to son? Oh god." Josh refrains from groaning.

"Oh, be quiet. You're in need of some guidance, I have some to offer. Now sit down."

"I'm actually all good on the guidance front, so..."

"Sit down."

Meekly, Josh admits defeat and slumps into the chair beside his father's. "Okay. Fine."

Noah sets down his cup of coffee and knits his hands thoughtfully in his lap. "Where were you tonight?"

"Dad..."

"Joshua."

"Dad, you know where I was."

"Yes, but I'd like to hear you say it."

"I was... Across town."

"You were with Donna Moss."

"Well, yeah, she might've been there too." He mumbles, already loathing the direction this is headed. He recalls another memorable father/son talk, back when he had turned fifteen. Sex education hadn't been so great at the time, and Noah had taken it upon himself to deliver the 'use protection' lesson the school hadn't. Josh had started banging his head on the kitchen table.

"I assume you two are still in some sort of nebulous, undefined relationship?"

Josh starts looking around for a hard surface to bang his head against. The porch railing might do. "You could say that."

"I doubt I need to tell you how stupid I find that."

"You don't."

"Well, I will anyway. It's stupid! This just isn't the way one goes about things, Joshua. I had thought I had impressed lessons on relationships upon you throughout the years, but apparently I have failed."

"You haven't failed, dad. It's just not all... Applicable to this situation."

"There must be intentions, you know. Clear intentions. You're either in or you're out. You can't have it both ways. I remember, when I met your mother-"

"Dad, this isn't the same, okay? We're not 'going steady.' We don't head out for nights down at the drive-in, or pair off for the sock-hop and let her wear my ring." He finishes this statement with a grin, but soon blanches under his father's stare. "Too many old jokes?"

"It was overdone by the time you reached the sock hop."

"Sorry." Josh acknowledges.

"This has nothing to do with generational differences. I couldn't care less if you have meaningless sex with someone-"

"Oh god, dad!" Josh looks like he wants to puke.

Noah rolls his eyes. "Wishing there was a table here for you to bang your head against?" He, too, recalls that night with stunning clarity.

"That'd be nice."

"Tough!" Noah means business with this talk, but he is taking a bit of glee from it as well. "Now, as I was saying. It's not what you're doing that bothers me. What bothers me is that you obviously care about the girl, but have taken exactly the inverse actions that one usually takes when one cares about someone."

"Who said I-"

"You two shouldn't pretend you mean nothing to one another. It's pointless, and unproductive. And I hate to see the two of you strung along, and eventually hurt, if neither of you has the guts to do anything."

Josh sighs. As much as he wishes he could deny it, his father is right. He is more painfully invested in this relationship - this messy, nebulous, ill-defined non-relationship - than he'd ever thought possible. "It's complicated, dad."

"That's life."

"I'm saying, she lives here, I live in DC, she's working for you, and neither of us want-"

" _Joshua_." Noah interrupts firmly. "That's life."

"But-"

"But nothing. Life isn't about orbiting close to something you really want, only to let it pass because it's mildly inconvenient to reach for it. I'm aware that putting yourself out there is more than half of it - there's a chance it'll all blow up on you. But, kid?"

"Yeah?"

"Putting yourself out there is also where more than half of the good stuff happens." Noah allows that to settle. "And what's more? You know that. It's why you gave up your job to work for Jed Bartlet. It's why you didn't take the bar and work here like I wanted you to, but moved to DC at twenty-five. It's why you are who you are. But, hell, I can't understand why those guts of yours don't seem to bleed over into your personal life." Noah adds as an afterthought, mumbling toward the end. He looks over at his son, who is staring out across the lawn.

As he stares, Josh slowly begins to smile. "I really thought that I'd outgrown your sermons, dad."

"Never."

"Right."

"But Joshua-"

"I get it, dad. I'm with you."

"You... Are?"

"You're right. Seriously. I'm going to do something."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Noah starts to smile, as well. "While you're here?"

"While I'm here." Josh looks a little ill at this declaration.

Noah grins fully. "She's worth it, son. I can guarantee you she's worth it."

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A few hours later, Josh follows his father into the office. He gives Donna a smile as Noah greets her, trying his best not to betray his nerves.

"Good morning, Donnatella."

"Good morning, sir."

"Pleasant evening?" Noah asks cheerfully.

Donna dodges his implications. "Fine, sir."

Over his shoulder, Josh mouths _'Fine?'_ incredulously. She suppresses a smile.

"I see. Well, we've got a consultation at ten, you'll sit in?"

"Yes, sir."

"Wonderful."

"I'll be in in a moment to give you your phone messages."

"Take your time." Noah waves a hand and disappears into his office, all but whistling.

Upon his exit, Donna tries not to seem to eager in turning back to Josh. She gives him a slight smile. "Sleep well?"

"Very little."

"Pity."

"And you? How'd you sleep?"

"Fine."

"Just fine? Like how your evening was fine?"

"Yes. Exactly that level of fine."

"Okay, so there's a new definition of fine that I'm not acquainted with."

"I'm using it to mean adequate, how are you using it?"

"Adequate? _Adequate_?"

She grins. "Adequate, on par, whatever floats your boat."

"Whatever." He shakes his head. "Anyway, listen, I wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?" Something in his tone cues her to sit forward, on edge. She searches his eyes, as he doesn't immediately respond.

She finds nothing, as he's looking determinedly at the surface of her desk. "What are you doing tonight?"

She falters. He's asked her that a dozen times. Why does it suddenly feel like a loaded question? "Well, you're staying here tonight, right?"

"Right."

"Well, I was hoping to have another adequate evening." She gives him her best coy smile.

"I can do better than that. Go out to dinner with me." He says all at once. His stomach lilts painfully, but he meets her eyes bravely. He attempts one of his charming smiles.

At first, she fears she'd misheard him. "You... What?"

"Go out to dinner with me. And, you know, drinks. I'm not promising dessert, because I'm a little strapped for cash right now, but..."

"Are you serious?"

"When am I ever anything but genuine?" He jokes.

She swallows. "Are you asking me out... On a date?"

"Obviously not very well."

"But..." He's smiling, so almost by default, she's smiling a little too. She can't help herself. "That's against-"

"Don't say it." He interrupts her before she can say 'the rules.' "Just go out with me. One date. You're not signing on to anything. You're just... Giving it a chance."

"I..." She hesitates. Every part of her that she trusts is screaming at her to say no. To end this thing once and for all, as she should've weeks ago. But there's a smaller part of her, buried deep inside, that is tugging her forward. It's the part of herself she used to listen to, before she had any other parts of herself to call her own. She wonders if this is how Sam felt, when Josh looked at him with that same winning smile and asked him to step into the unknown. "Okay."

"Yes? Okay?"

"Yes. One date. One! Are we clear?"

"Possibly more, we'll see." Josh adds quickly. Before she can say anything, he barrels on. "Great! I have this thing to do for the campaign today, down at the Capitol, but I'll pick you at seven, yeah?" He starts to head toward the exit, grinning widely.

"Wait! Where are we going?"

"I have plans." He says vaguely.

She rolls her eyes. "What should I wear?"

"Clothes? Or not, I dunno."

"Josh."

"Casual. Something you can walk in."

"We're walking? Since when does dinner involve walking?"

"I told you, I have plans."

She can't help but smile as he continues to back toward the door, a gleam in his eye. "Alright. Seven it is."

"Seven it is! See you later, Donnatella."

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"Is that what you're wearing?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You look like you just came from class."

"I did just come from class." Donna mumbles.

"This is a date! A first date! Don't you think a little effort is required?" Clarissa prompts, leaning around Donna's doorframe.

"Am I or am I not putting on mascara?"

"Donna. That is not effort."

"Look, we're going to be walking, and this is comfortable, and warm, okay? In case you had forgotten, this is Connecticut, and it's February." Donna defends her attire - a worn Yale sweatshirt, jeans, and a coat.

"I know for a fact you can walk in four inch heels."

"But do I want to?"

"You might be taller than him. Good call."

"That wasn't my reasoning, actually."

"All I'm saying is, you need to sell yourself."

"He's seen me naked at least a dozen times. At this point, I think he knows what he's getting." Donna reminds her.

"All the more reason! Remind him of how ridiculously lucky he is. He should know that just because he's had you before, you're not guaranteed now that the stakes are higher."

"I'll remind you that I don't even really care about this date."

"Donna."

"What? I don't." She had been trying as hard as possible to convince herself of this fact. But in truth, her attire is actually a symptom of her nerves. She needs to know that he likes her - not her legs, not her chest. Not all the parts of herself she'd given all too willingly. Her. Plus, it helps that these are comfort clothes.

"Listen, even if I didn't have to suffer through the two of you talking and giggling and more until two in the morning, I'd still know how you feel. It's obvious to anyone who spends five minutes with the two of you."

Donna aims a glare her way. "Leave me alone."

"I'm just trying to get you to invest a little, here. It's been a long time since you have."

Before Donna can answer, there's a knock at the door. Donna brushes past her roommate, who smiles slightly upon seeing the way that her face lights up. Donna pulls the door open with a firm, "Only ten minutes late. I'm impressed."

"I'm able to rise to the occasion when necessary." He leans in to kiss her cheek, unsurprised by her abrupt manner. He knew tonight would set her on edge, at least a little. He hopes it's in the best way.

She is momentarily flustered by the easy tenderness of this gesture. She hesitates in the doorway before turning away from him. "Give me a minute. I've gotta put my shoes on."

He watches her lace up her sneakers. "You look... Warm."

She looks up at him to find that he's teasing her. "Gee, thanks."

"No, I'm glad to see you took my 'something you can walk in' directions to heart. Admittedly, I didn't say, 'something you could hike the Appalachian trail in,' but..."

"Shut up."

"I'm kidding. You look good. You always do."

She's standing up off the couch as he says this, but almost falls back down at this declaration. He looks equally surprised by his words. She recovers quickly. "Somebody's really turning on the charm tonight."

He smiles, relieved she's reverting to humor. "You haven't seen the half of it."

"You don't look so bad yourself, you know." She gives him the once over as she brushes past him in the doorway. He closes the door behind them and follows her down the hallway, smirking.

"Yeah?"

"You forewent the suit. I appreciate that."

"You're not a fan of the suits?"

"They're fine. But they would've made me look a tad underdressed. And, you know... They are a bit oversized. Not flattering."

"The truth comes out!"

"You should wear three piece suits. Like your father."

"I'm not even going to get into the implications of you suggesting that I look more like my dad."

She laughs. "I'm kidding. The suits are fine, you know. Even if you look kind of like a fifteen year old playing dress up for debate team."

"That's it. I'm going home."

"No, it's cute!"

"Exactly the adjective I strive for." He says sarcastically.

"The best though is when you take off the jacket, and roll up your sleeves. And your tie is loose, and you've run your hands through your hair so much that you look all frazzled. That's my favorite." She says all at once. Only once she's finished does she realize how much she's just given away - how much attention she pays to him, how fixated she is on him.

He slows down to look at her as they exit her building. Despite the cold wind that greets them, Donna feels heat rising in her face. He raises one eyebrow at her, amused. "Your favorite, huh?"

"What I meant was-"

He throws one arm around her and starts walking again, grinning. "You're adorable."

She can't help but smile as she leans into him, against the cold. "Exactly the adjective I strive for."

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 **Alright, next chapter you get the rest of the date! Josh has plans, you guys, I wouldn't cheat you out of getting to enjoy them ;)**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I told you I'd have this up soon! Thanks for all the reviews, guys. They were so sweet and forgiving, as always ;) You guys are the best! Thanks for reminding me that no matter what, there will be legions of you out there still to read and support me.**

 **Oh and we reached 100 reviews! Whoa! Thanks so much you guys, I never expected this story to take off the way it has.**

 **I'm excited about this chapter, but I have a feeling you guys are going to have a very love/hate relationship with it. Let me know what you think!**

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"This is stop two."

"Okay. Stop one was a bar where you once got blackout drunk, with a picture of you mid-strip tease on the wall-"

"Again, I don't remember that at all, but I'm assuming it was a bet."

"-and stop two is a dodgy Italian place? I'm not really seeing the theme of this adventure tour, here."

"Okay, one, Marco's is not _dodgy_ , and two, it'll all come together by the end of the night."

"Just how many stops are there, tonight, anyway?"

Josh ignores her, and tells the hostess "Two."

She persists as she follows him to their table. "Okay, it's kind of cute in here, I'll give you that. Quaint."

"Marco will be pleased to hear that."

"What is this, some sort of old law school haunt?"

"Sort of."

"I can't believe I've never been here. I walk past this place on my way to class all the time."

"See? Maybe the point of tonight is to broaden your horizons."

"I've been to that bar countless times. So, mission failed."

"Oh, have a few blackout episodes you'd like to recount?"

"Can't. I don't remember them." She gives him a smile over her menu.

Over drinks, he'd regaled her with tales of his time here, and she'd shared some of hers in return. She'd even broached the subject of her undergraduate years, which held a few more wild memories. As ever, he listened with intrigue and faint amusement, though he'd grown notably somber at the throw away mention of her ex-boyfriend, Roy, or "Dr. Free ride." As for her, she couldn't help but listen, enthralled, to stories of his past. She wanted to know everything about him. She'd gotten in a few playful jabs here and there, but mostly she was content just to listen to him talk as he described for her an overly ambitious twenty-something, with no verbal filter and too many ideals, burying himself in work and then blowing off steam in the stupidest of ways.

 _Were there girls?_ she'd wanted to know. A few, here and there. Nothing serious. He was too wrapped up in work. This had given him the opportunity to ask in kind, _were there guys?_ Her answer was basically the same. Nothing serious since Roy.

He rolls his eyes at her. "I thought you were a heavyweight."

"I am a heavyweight!" She protests.

"There's no way."

"What, because I look like this?"

"Well, yeah. You're blonde and you weigh like ninety pounds. Barbie isn't a heavyweight, you're not one either."

"Okay, one, I weigh a lot more than ninety pounds, and two, looks can be deceiving! You don't look like three shots would be enough to make you blackout, but there's photographic evidence."

"It was five shots! In very quick succession!"

"The bartender said three."

"What does she know? Anyway, I was young. Inexperienced."

"I could drink you under the table."

"You're on. Some other time."

"That can't be one of our stops tonight?"

"I feel like getting blackout drunk together has gotta be at least a third date activity, maybe fourth."

She grins. "You think we'll make it that far?"

"I can't pass up the opportunity to drink you under the table, can I?"

He's joking, mostly, and she knows that, but she can't help but be excited by the prospect of more nights like tonight. She's about to reply when over the counter they hear, "Is that Joshua Lyman? As I live and breathe!"

Donna turns to Josh, surprised, but he looks anything but. He grins as a squat older man makes his way around the counter, arms wide. "It is! Kid, how ya doin'? It's been years!"

Josh stands up and accepts a handshake and clap on the shoulder. "Marco, it's good to see you."

"Years, I tell you, that you don't come to see me." Marco admonishes in a thick Jersey accent. He puts one hand on the side of Josh's face. "Geez, you look older."

"That's generally what happens when years go by."

"Not so much like a kid now, huh? I tell you, we've been watching you on this campaign of yours. You look tired."

"We're all tired."

"And hungry! Starving! That's what you're here for, huh?"

"You bet."

Marco looks past to him to the table, where Donna is watching them with evident confusion. He grins broadly. "And who's this?"

Donna recovers and sticks out a hand. "Donna. It's nice to meet you."

"Marco." He accepts her handshake enthusiastically.

"This is your place?"

"Mine, yeah. I've got a son, Marco, too, who was supposed to help out, but what can you do? Kid's out in California somewhere, trying to be an actor."

"Right." Donna nods hesitantly.

"This girl's with you?" Marco directs this question to Josh. "What the hell's she doing with you? She's gorgeous."

"And what's more, her name's Donnatella. I found you an Italian, Marco."

"You're kidding!" Marco's eyes light up. "Another one, in New Haven? The stars have aligned. I'm sending out the good stuff, tonight."

Donna can't help but smile. "So you two... Know each other?"

"Oh sure!" Marco says immediately. "Good kid. Helped me out of some legal trouble a few years back."

Donna raises her eyebrows at this, and Josh quickly steps in. "Not really. I just hooked him up with my dad, it wasn't a big deal."

"Was too!" Marco denies. "I woulda went under if it weren't for you two."

"You don't know-"

"It was like this." Marco interrupts him, speaking directly to Donna. "One night it's getting late, right? It must've been going on midnight. Now, this is a college campus, so we stay open late, yeah? But I woulda closed at eleven or something if it weren't for this kid who wouldn't leave the counter." He jerks a thumb at Josh. "He musta finished eating hours ago, but he got all wrapped up in some textbook or something, so I let him be. Looked stressed, you know?"

"Midterms." Josh explains.

"Right. Well me and a friend get to talking about this mess I'd been dragged into. Something about the guy who was leasing me the place, who turned around on the contract and was suing me. I didn't know the first thing about it, you know? I would've just given him the money."

"Right." Donna nods, knowing by now how this will end.

"And this kid looks up and goes, 'that's illegal, you know. That guy's in the wrong, he should be paying you.' Can you believe that? Next thing you know, I've got this amazing big name lawyer working my little case pro-bono. The kid's old man. Won me enough to keep this place going. Isn't that something?"

"Sure is." Donna grins. That sounds on brand for Noah. He loves to take on small cases pro-bono every now and then, just to keep him humble and remind him of his work's value.

"Amazing. I'll never forget it. I'm grateful, you know?"

"We know." Josh reminds him. "My mom and dad have been sent a full meal every Friday for ten years."

"And I'd have kept sending 'em to you if you didn't move away." Marco tells him. "But I've got tonight! Keep your wallet on you, tonight's on me. And we've got an Italian here! I think that warrants some free cannolis, yeah?" He claps Josh on the shoulder and hurries back to the kitchen, wringing his hands together in anticipation.

After he leaves, Josh sinks back into the booth, oblivious to Donna's blinding grin. "I didn't just bring you here for the free food. I'll leave money on the table, don't worry."

She rests her chin on one hand, continuing to grin at him. "He's the closest you'll ever get to being in the Godfather, isn't he?"

Josh smiles meekly, found out. "He is a little, yeah. Much nicer, though. But I wouldn't know, I've never sided against the family."

She watches him seriously. "I get it now."

"Get what?"

"The theme of tonight."

"Oh yeah?"

"It's a tour. It's a tour of _you_."

He meets her eyes with a hesitant smile. "You got me."

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"Where are we?"

"I'll tell you when we get there."

"I thought this was a walking tour, not a taxi tour."

"Most of it is walking. But I thought you might not want to walk three hours for this particular stop."

"We're all the way across town. In a subdivision. I'm confused."

"I'll explain in a minute."

"Are you going to murder me?"

"What?"

"Taking me all the way across town, late at night-"

"It's only ten."

"-to where no one else is around."

"It's a subdivision. There are plenty of people around."

"They're sleeping."

He shrugs. "They'd still hear you scream."

"You're not making me feel any better."

Josh shakes his head as he hands the cab driver some money. "C'mon. We're here."

"I'm so full." She complains as he helps her out of the cab.

"What'd I tell you? I told you not to eat the second cannoli. I told you we'd be walking more."

"They were such good cannolis, Josh."

"I know." He allows, guiding her across the street with one hand on her back. He slows in front of a small house, surrounded by an idyllic white picket fence. She turns to him curiously, and sees his eyes glowing faintly in the darkness, fixed on the house before them.

"Is this stop three?"

He nods.

She watches him, taken away from her by something. Unlike the last two places, where he'd been joking and at ease, he seems overcome by the nostalgia of this place. "I don't understand." She says finally, wary of disturbing him.

"I used to live here. I grew up here."

"I thought you grew up in the house where your parents live. Over on Rosemoor."

"I guess I did, maybe. This is where we lived before that, though. Until I was eight."

"Oh." She does some quick mental math. Joanie was six years older than Josh, she died when she was... "Oh."

"My parents used to live in New York." He tells her. "That's where they met, and had Joanie. My dad was part of a big corporate law firm. He was a big name."

Donna thinks that vaguely, she must've known this.

"But when he came back from Vietnam, and my mom got pregnant again, they wanted something else. The perfect suburban life, you know. The two little kids. What everyone wanted in the sixties, I guess. So they moved out here. Dad got a teaching job at Yale."

Donna knew that Noah was a veteran. He had reminders of his time there, pictures, one medal. At home, the cap of his dress uniform sat out on a shelf. He'd never spoken of it to her in anything more than a passing way, just as Josh is now.

"As you know, that didn't turn out so well."

Donna smiles. "Yeah. He mentioned that."

"He wanted to practice law. He always has. He can teach by doing, but that's about it. But the university agreed to keep him on, tenured, as he opened his own practice. As long as he continued to give guest lectures, and left an internship open on his staff exclusively available to Yale students." He gives her a warm look.

"My internship." She concludes.

"Yeah." He clears his throat. "We, uh, moved closer to his practice when I was a kid. To the house on Rosemoor."

She draws closer to him. He's not looking at her again, but at the house, cloaked in darkness. Gently, she says, "But that's not the reason you moved."

His breath hitches. "No. It isn't."

She waits for him to go on, knowing he'll tell her when he's able.

When he does, he starts with, "You probably know I had a sister, yeah?"

"Yeah." She acknowledges.

"And you know about the fire?"

She wraps one arm around his waist. "A little, yeah."

"Well. That's why we moved." He says forcefully. "The damage was repairable, but... None of us could look at it anymore. None of us could live here."

"I understand." She says thickly, trying to keep the tears at bay - even though she doesn't understand. She'd known about Joanie, and had heard from Noah what an impact the fire had on Josh, but now she is witnessing it firsthand. He sounds... Wrecked. Robbed. Gone is all the bravado she's accustomed to, all the humor and charm. She holds him tighter.

"And my parents wanted me to move schools. I kept getting into fights at the school here." He chances a faint smile. "They wanted a fresh start."

"Right."

"We never had a fence, you know." His hand grazes the top of a white plank. "My dad would always say he was going to build one, but he never did."

"Sounds like him."

"And the garden. We never had a garden. My mom kept the place kind of... Overgrown. Well, hell, you've seen her house now."

Donna chuckles. It was true, Ruth did let the plants have free rein.

"But we did have a swing set. In the back, there." He gestures with one hand. "It's gone, now. The buyers didn't have kids. Our new house didn't have one, either. But, you know... I never really found myself wanting one, after that."

"Josh..." Tears are now flowing freely down her face. She tries to find anything to say, to make this better. To respond in any way to the kind of pain he'd been through. But eventually, all she manages is, "I am so, so sorry."

"Don't be." He snaps suddenly out of his reverie. He cranes his head to look at her, and seems to notice for the first time that she's crying. His eyes crinkle in a sad smile, and he reaches up to wipe her face with a sleeve. "Jesus, Donna, it didn't happen to you. Calm down."

That makes her laugh a little. "I'm sorry."

"Quit saying that." He kisses her forehead. "Now, c'mon. Perk up. One more stop, and it's a happy one."

"There's another stop?"

"Yeah. Couldn't close on this, could I?" He attempts to keep his tone light as he leads her down the sidewalk, leaving the house behind, but she hears him choke up a little.

"I guess not."

He shakes his head, obviously trying to move past this. "Besides, we're going backward through my life history, here. We've got one thing that predates this."

"From before you were eight?" She asks, curious.

"Yupp." They reach the front of the subdivision, where there's a park. He starts walking her across a soccer field, and she sees something gleaming in the distance.

"Is that...?"

"A baseball field? Yes."

She jogs a couple steps ahead of him as they reach the bleachers, and stops at the chain link fence behind home base. She takes it in, open-mouthed, as something comes back to her. "Wait... I'm remembering something. This place looks familiar."

"Wait for it." He grins as the memory floods back to her.

"The picture on your mother's fridge!"

"Nailed it."

"You played little league here!"

"Gotta love a girl who's so unabashedly creepy."

She ignores him. "Aw, oh my god. You were so cute back then."

"And now?"

"Eh." She gives him a smile before turning back to the field. "I can't believe this. This is where your Mets obsession began."

"No, actually. It was culivated in me from birth."

"Of course. My mistake."

"My dad used to come to all the games. Was the most intense parent on the stands."

"That I can believe."

"He also wore jeans."

"Now that's a lie."

"I'm serious! Bell bottoms."

"You're kidding."

"It was the seventies, and my dad has always been a man of high fashion."

She laughs and crosses back to him, and together they take a seat on the bleachers. "I love this."

"Yeah?"

"The life tour. This has been... Great."

"I'm glad."

"How'd you know I love museums?" She jokes.

"You seemed the type."

"I feel like there are some key pieces missing though, in case you wanted to improve the experience."

"Doubt I'll ever do this again, but go ahead."

"Where's high school? Middle school? Undergrad? There are some hidden years here, my friend."

"We'd have to go all the way to Boston for undergrad."

"Okay, well, the rest of it."

"I edited for time's sake. But, ask me anything you want."

So she does. Half an hour later, they've both spilled volumes of blackmail worthy information on their respective youth experiences. There are tales of lost virginity: hers, at 16 in the back of a car, his, at 18 with a Harvard senior. They've exchanged "worst high school memories:" hers, when she tagged along to senior prom as a junior (her date won prom king, and tried to thank her on stage, but forgot her name), his, when an English teacher came on to him.

Eventually, they settle into an easy silence, leaning back against the row behind them and staring out across the darkened park.

"So, not that I didn't love this," she starts, "but..."

"What?" He cranes his neck to look at her, which is difficult at the close distance. They're pressed shoulder to shoulder.

"But, why? Why this, tonight? It's a pretty original first date, and I was just wondering..."

"Oh, that." He settles back down. "It's just... I don't know. This is some stuff that a lot of people don't know about me."

"I figured." She says softly.

"I wanted this to be different."

"What do you mean?"

"I know you aren't sure about this. I wanted to show you... I'm invested."

"You're... Invested?" She finds her heart catching painfully.

"I mean... Yeah."

She struggles to maintain an even tone. "Wow."

"Yeah." He swallows uncomfortably. "How am I... Doing?"

"Good." She assures him. She takes his hand and intertwines their fingers. "Very good."

He smiles. "What do you want to do now?"

She looks over at him. "You're hoping to get lucky, aren't you?"

"Well, I heard somewhere that you're having a pretty good time."

"I am." She sits up on the bench, and he follows suit. She takes her hand out of his and rests it gently on the side of his face. "I really am."

"I was kidding." He feels the need to tell her. "We don't need to-"

"I liked you before, you know." She interrupts him. "Cute, cocky, kind of obnoxious. Brainy. I liked you. A lot, as you could probably tell, by how much I called you, and wanted to see you."

"Why do I feel like there's a 'but' coming?"

"But this side of you? All sweet, and sensitive, and invested?" She leans in closer, her hand trailing to the back of his head. She smiles and lowers her eyelids deliberately. "You could take me right here on the bleachers."

It takes him a moment to regain control of his vocal capabilities. "That sounds cold, and ultimately unpleasant."

"That's just how much I like you." She presses her lips to his, surprisingly for the first time that night. She'd been so caught up in other things she hadn't thought to want him physically. But now, she can't help herself, and is quickly swept up in the moment.

He deepens the kiss and pulls her closer to him, practically onto his lap. The 'taking her on the bleachers' thing had definitely been a joke, but as things start to heat up, and he starts to reach under her frumpy outfit, she has to admit it's a distinct possibility.

At first, she doesn't even notice when his pocket starts to vibrate underneath her. After a couple rings, she comes to. "Your phone."

"It's fine, leave it." He says dismissively.

She smiles and does as directed, falling back into the kiss. A minute later, however, his phone rings again, and she has to pull back. "Okay, you should probably get that."

"Probably." He admits. He has to reach under her to get his phone, which makes her laugh. "Hello?"

She leans her head against his shoulder and listens to his end of the conversation.

"What? No, slow down. I don't understand. You're where? What happened?" Donna picks her head up, alarmed by his change in tone. "No, it's okay. It'll be okay. I'll be right there. Okay. Bye."

"What's wrong?" She asks immediately.

He looks up at her with wide eyes. "That was my mom. My dad's in the hospital."

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 ** _I am so sorry please don't hate me!_**

 **I hope not to prolong the next chapter, I know this is a rough cliffhanger. Let me know what you think, though!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Three chapters in three days? Crazy, I know. I'm just trying to do right by you guys - I know that last chapter was a rough one to live with. I'm glad you guys liked the date, though! I loved writing it, and felt bad that it had to end so terribly.**

 **Without further ado, here's chapter twelve.**

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The first thing Josh hears as he hurtles around the corner toward his father's room is, " _I'm fine, goddammit!_ "

That seems about right.

He turns into the room and sees his father lying in the hospital bed, in a full gown. It's been a long time since he's seen him this way, and he rears back initially at the shock. A doctor hovers nearby, and upon seeing him, Ruth stands up from her chair immediately. "Josh!"

Josh hurries around to her side of the bed and puts an arm around her shoulders. "Mom, hey, what happened?"

"Joshua!" His father interrupts, over the sound of a persistent heart monitor. "Maybe you can tell them how ridiculous they're being."

"Shut up." Ruth snaps. "He's being insufferable." She laments.

"Will somebody tell me what happened?"

"Your father collapsed." The doctor tells him.

Josh looks between his parents in shock. "Dad?" He says uncertainly.

"I'm fine!" Noah maintains gruffly. "I haven't eaten much today, that's all."

"He went into the kitchen to get a drink, and he just fell down onto the floor. He didn't come to for more than thirty seconds, I had no idea what to do." Ruth recalls, somewhat tearfully.

Josh pulls her in closer to his side. "You did the right thing, mom. He's here."

"And I'm _fine_." Noah grumbles.

"Do we know what caused it? Was it just exhaustion, or...?" He directs this question to the doctor.

"Your father is having some trouble regulating his blood pressure." She tells him. "It's possibly a symptom of his treatment, or just overall fatigue and wear. He's developed some clotting, and tonight his blood pressure dipped suddenly due to one of these clots."

"Okay." Josh says slowly. "What does that mean? Going forward, I mean? Is it going to be a problem, or..."

"That's what I was just talking to your mother about. It'll probably continue to be a problem, but there are some things we can do. Blood thinners, for one. Some lifestyle changes. He should probably be taking it easier than he is now."

"I knew it." Ruth mumbles.

"I've already been taking it easy!"

The doctor gives him a thin lipped smile. "We can talk about it. Right now, we need for you to rest. Mrs. Lyman, if you could come with me, we can talk a bit more in depth about prescriptions, lifestyle, etc?" She offers an encouraging look to Ruth.

Ruth steps hesitantly away from her son, and reaches out to squeeze Noah's hand. She bends down and kisses his cheek, brushing his oxygen tube. She gives him a tender smile. "Don't be a pain while I'm gone."

"No promises."

"Josh? Keep an eye on him."

"You bet." As she leaves, Josh pulls up a chair next to his father's bed, and sinks down into it heavily. "Jesus, Dad, you scared the hell out of me."

Noah frowns. "I'm afraid it was worse for you mother. I doubt she'll ever leave me alone for more than thirty seconds again."

Josh nods. He's probably right. "Are you feeling okay, now?"

"I'm in a paper gown, in a hospital, at eleven at night. How do you think I'm feeling?"

Josh smiles wryly. "Point taken. I'm just glad you're okay."

"Yes, well." Noah sighs heavily. "I must apologize, Joshua."

"For what, dad?"

"Your date. I must've spoiled it, I'm afraid."

Josh rolls his eyes. "Dad. You can't possibly be worried about that right now."

"I can! This whole physical incapacitation thing has given me a lot of time to think."

"You've been physically incapacitated for less than an hour."

"That's enough time to think."

"It's really fine, dad. Like I said, I'm just glad you're okay."

"But I did ruin it?"

"No, no." Josh waves a hand dismissively. "I mean, c'mon, it's eleven. It was practically over, and..." He caves under Noah's unnerving stare. "Okay. It was going really well."

"Not close to ending?"

"Dad."

"Okay. I'm sorry." He can't help a smile. "I'm glad it went well for you. I'll try to refrain from gloating."

"I appreciate that."

"Did you drop her at home?"

Josh shifts uncomfortably on his chair. "No, actually. She came with me."

Noah perks up. "What?"

"She wanted to. But then she thought it would be weird, so... She's in the lobby."

"She's in the hospital lobby?" Noah repeats incredulously.

"Yeah."

"Well then, what the hell are you doing? Go get her!"

"I had to make sure you were okay first!"

"Quick, before your mother gets back and starts asking questions. I'll have a word with her, reassure her that I am fine, and then the two of you can be on your way! Like nothing happened."

"Dad, no. I'm not leaving you here."

It's Noah's turn to roll his eyes. "Well at least go fetch her so that we can have words, and then you can pay for her cab. Deal?"

"You're not going to say anything weird, right?"

"When have I ever?"

"Dad."

"I'll be good, okay? Now go get the poor girl. She's probably very worried. She's very fond of me, after all."

Josh chuckles. "Okay. I'll be right back."

He returns a few minutes later with an anxious Donna in tow. At the sight of her boss, she breaks into a smile. "Sir, you're okay!"

"Okay is a strong word for how I feel about my current situation, but yes, I am fine physically."

"Josh told me what happened. I'm so relieved that you're going to be alright, sir."

He gives her a smile. "I am too."

Josh hesitates in the doorway. His first instinct is to want to be here, to keep the two of them from saying anything outrageously embarrassing about him. But he realizes, looking between them, that there are some things that might be easier said without him in the room. He takes a step backward. "I'm going to get you some water, dad. You want anything else?"

Noah looks up at him in surprise. He seems to cotton on to his intentions. "No, water is fine, thank you, Joshua."

In his absence, Donna settles hesitantly into his vacated visitor's chair. It's difficult for her to look directly at Noah, connected to so many tubes and wires, lying prone. Seeing him sitting up on an IV drip is one thing, but this is much more. She's accustomed to him as strong, and sturdy. Like a pillar, he might say.

He allows her a few moments to ease into the situation. The first thing he says to break the silence is, " _That's_ what you wore on a first date?"

She can't help but chuckle. "Yes, sir."

"You must really not like him."

Her smile fades. "No, I do. I really, really do."

"He did okay tonight?"

"More than okay."

Noah sighs. "But?"

Donna blinks, surprised. "But... But it's not going to work, sir. I think we both knew that already, we just... Didn't want to believe it."

"You're sticking to your plan?"

"I am."

He frowns. "I understand, Donnatella. I don't hold it against you. The decision is entirely yours."

She breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank you, sir."

"But, tell me one thing: this decision doesn't have anything to do with my situation tonight, does it?"

"No, sir." She says immediately. For the most part, it's true. Maybe the night wouldn't have ended this way if he hadn't collapsed. Maybe she would've stayed on high, and let herself coast through a few more magical dates. But one way or another, it was all going to come down this way. Noah's crisis had only served as a timely reminder of her true commitment.

He watches her, not entirely convinced. Finally, he says, "Good. I could've never forgiven myself."

Her eyes crinkle in a sad smile. Attempting to lighten the mood, she says, "Besides. I've already got enough Lymans in my life, don't you think?"

Noah offers a grudging smile. "A few too many, I believe."

Josh appears in the doorway, and glances between the two of them, smiling wistfully together. He steps inside and sets a cup of water on his father's bedside table. He looks at Donna. "Ready to go?"

She nods, not quite meeting his gaze. "Yeah."

"I'll walk you out."

Noah watches them go, his smile fading.

In the lobby, they slow before they reach the doors. Donna folds her arms, and looks up hesitantly. Josh seems no more eager to start the conversation.

"Listen." She says eventually. "Tonight was... Amazing. Perfect, actually. I have no complaints."

He smiles sadly. "Me either."

She sighs. "It was great. You were great. But-"

"Don't say it." He interrupts her softly. He reaches out and puts one hand under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "It's okay."

"It's not okay. I know it's not. You don't know how much I wish things were different, but-"

"But they're not." He says simply. "It's okay. We gave it a shot."

"I can't leave." She confesses. "Not even after I graduate. He's given me so much. I can't leave him, not after everything he's done for me."

"I understand."

She hears him, but feels the need to keep talking, to do anything to make this more okay. This hurts more than she'd thought possible. "I've got a life here, a future, it's too much to-"

"Donna. Stop talking." He gives her half a smile, but it's filled with aching.

"I just want-" she's starting to tear up, which is beyond embarrassing.

"It's okay." He tells her again, and pulls her into a hug. She feels horrible that he has to comfort her, but she clings to him nonetheless. "You told me all this before, I was stupid to think things would change."

"You weren't stupid." She tells him firmly.

"Thanks."

Impossible though it may seem, her task isn't over yet. She gathers the strength to pull back and look at him. "We can't go back to what we were before. I don't think we can be with each other... at all."

"That makes sense."

"We'd just end up back here again."

"Yeah. We would."

"So this is... Over." She concludes hollowly.

"I guess it is." He looks drained. Defeated.

She bites her lip. "I wish..."

"I do too."

She pulls him back in for one last hug, and with a heavy thud of her heart she realizes that this might be the last time she'll be this close to him. All she can think to say is, "I'll take care of your dad."

"Thank you."

"Tonight was... It really was amazing. Thank you."

"You bet."

And then he pulls back, and it's over. He takes one step away from her, and she's practically torn in half with how conflicted she feels about walking away from him. She looks down, to make it easier.

"I'll see you next week?" She offers hesitantly, evoking one of their favorite jokes.

He gives her a sad smile. "You might, actually." And with that, he disappears into the hospital.

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A week later, Noah is just finishing his first day back at work - his first half-day, that is. He begrudgingly gets his things together and slumps out of his office at 12:30. On his way out, he notices his intern, hunched over a reading. He makes his way over to her slowly, a feeling of regret creeping over him.

"Hey, kid." He greets softly. It's a term of endearment he doesn't use overly often, but she looks like she needs it.

She looks up at him with wide eyes, which are red-rimmed and shadowed. "Sir?"

"I'm heading out, Donnatella."

"Is it... 12:30? Already?" She glances at the wall clock, frazzled. "Oh."

He gives her an easy smile. "It's okay."

"How are you feeling, sir?"

"Just fine, thank you."

She'd been keeping a close eye on him, most of the day. Unfortunately she's been a bit scattered. According to Ruth, he's been recovering well, though his appetite is still low, and he's moving at a slower pace than usual. "That's good. Take it easy this afternoon, okay? Say hi to Ruth for me."

"Of course." He hesitates. "Will you be watching the results this evening?"

She blinks, momentarily surprised. Of course - tonight is the Illinois primary. "Of course, sir."

Noah smiles. "Our boy's been doing pretty well, hasn't he?"

Donna's gaze drops to her desk. He has been doing well, and she's noticed. Perhaps he hasn't been having as hard of a time with this as she has, she wonders idly. "Your boy, sir." She corrects softly.

His smile falters. "Yes, well. Mark my words, my son is going to win the Illinois primary tonight."

"I'm happy for you." She allows, giving him a half-hearted smile. "I'll be watching."

 _He'd be happy to hear that,_ Noah knows. He licks his lips, unsure of how to proceed with what he says next. "This has been hard on you, hasn't it?"

Her eyes widen. "Sir?"

"I'm sorry." He says immediately. "It's none of my business."

"No, it's okay." She tells him. "I... It has been hard."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"I miss him." She admits bluntly. Immediately after, she looks surprised at her own candor. She presses on. "But, like you said... This is my decision. And I have to live with it. I think I've made the right one, after all. This is for the best."

Noah nods. "Yes, well." He clears his throat awkwardly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She looks down at her desk again as he starts to leave. "See you, sir."

He hesitates before he reaches the door, and calls out to her. "Donna?"

Her head snaps back up. "Sir?"

Before he can think better of it, he tells her, "For what it's worth, I think you would've made a wonderful addition to my family."

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That night, their boy does win the Illinois primary. Despite her rough week, Donna can't contain her enthusiasm when they announce it. She jumps up from the couch and screams for her roommate.

"What? What's going on, are you being stabbed to death?"

"Bartlet! He won the Illinois primary!"

Clarissa smiles a little. "Good for him."

Donna stops jumping. "I should call Noah! And Ruth!"

"Who?"

"My boss, and his wife! I need to congratulate them, their son just won the Illinois primary!"

"Their son is Jed Bartlet?" Clarissa asks sarcastically.

Donna rolls her eyes, and goes into the kitchen to grab the phone. She tries them at home, but receives no answer.

"They didn't pick up."

"They're probably celebrating. Try them again later."

Donna smiles at the thought of Ruth tying up the phone by calling everyone she knows with the good news. She settles back on to the couch with the phone in her lap and watches the rest of the news coverage.

An hour later, she tries again. Still no answer. "Still nothing." Donna announces.

"Huh. His cell, maybe?"

"Good idea." She calls Noah's cell, only for it to go straight to voicemail. "He didn't answer, either."

"I'm sure it's nothing."

"Maybe." And yet, an uneasiness persists in her stomach. Finally, when another hour goes by, and still no one is picking up, she caves in and calls the hospital. Had he maybe mentioned a round of chemo today, and she'd forgotten? That sounds familiar.

When she calls the hospital, she finally gets an answer. But it's not the one she wanted.

This time, Clarissa isn't alerted to distress by her roommate's scream, but by Donna covering her mouth with one hand, eyes wide with horror.

"Donna? Everything okay?"

The phone slips out of her hand, without being hung up.

"Donna?"

Donna can't hear her. She can't hear anything. _He's gone._

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 **I'm crying, you're crying, we're all crying.**

 **I'm so sorry, you guys. Some of you made very compelling cases as to why I should save Noah in this story, whereas others of you openly accepted his fate, but I knew from the beginning that this is where it was going. It became harder once I began to write Noah, of course, and began to love him. I'll miss him too.**

 **I can only hope that the rest of this story can make it up to you guys. We're almost there! I hope you keep reading.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hey guys. I hope you're all hanging in there. That last chapter was killer, I'm so sorry. I felt terrible writing it, and your reviews told me that you felt just as bad reading it. Sorry for the tears! It does help to know that you guys loved Noah as much as I did, though. Thanks for all the support.**

 **Sorry for the fakeout in which Noah appeared to get better. That was cruel, I know. As some of you noticed, I did that for the significance of his last words to Donna (and a little bit to get closer to canon).**

 **Anyway, thanks for sticking with me! I love you guys!**

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The funeral is huge.

As Donna later learns, Noah was entitled to an honor guard and burial at Arlington, but he and Ruth had decided long ago that he didn't want one. Donna has to agree; the overflowing, jumbled assortment of mourners at their temple is much more fitting.

Donna arrives early, still in a daze. She'd kept a respectful distance over the past few days, knowing how overwhelmed Ruth was likely to be, and not wanting to risk upsetting Josh any further. She sent flowers, and a card that barely scratched the surface of what she wanted to say. She'd cried on and off all week, and as the office had closed out of respect, she found herself with far too much time on her hands to be alone with her grief.

She walks in, a little unsteady, feeling raw and unprepared. Her eyes immediately alight on Ruth and Josh, standing at the inner doors, greeting mourners. Her chest seizes painfully at the sight of him. On one hand, it's a relief to see him. She'd been worried about him, and it helps just to see him standing there. On the other hand, he is a wound that still hasn't healed, and with Noah's death added to the mix, things are even more fraught. All of her best memories of them are now tinged with sadness; his first meeting with her in the office, Noah forcing them to work together, the two of them meeting unexpectedly in the hospital room.

It doesn't help that, as she'd just realized last night, Noah's last words to her had been about his regret that they hadn't been able to make it work.

" _For what it's worth, I think you would've made a wonderful addition to my family._ "

She thinks so too. She only wishes that family still included him.

Josh notices her walking in, and stares at her for a moment as she approaches hesitantly. He doesn't look great - but then, that's to be expected. Dark circles ring his eyes, and he looks pale and unrested. His eyes are dim and distant, set determinedly. He stands close to his mother, who is showing the emotion he isn't. She's already teary.

The line to get inside dissipates too quickly, and Donna finds herself suddenly face to face with the bereaved.

"Ruth, Josh..." She starts uncertainly. "I'm so, so sorry."

Ruth immediately flings herself into her arms for a hug. "Donnatella. Thank you so much for coming, it means so much. You have no idea how much he cared for you."

Donna blinks back tears as she returns Ruth's embrace. She wants more than anything to tell Ruth everything that her husband meant to her, what a wonderful teacher and mentor he was, but the words get stuck in her throat. There will be time, she decides. If not at the reception later, than in the coming months. She won't stop coming by the house - there's no way she'll leave Ruth alone. All she manages is, "Thank you." Over the top of Ruth's head, she looks at Josh. He's watching them, detached.

After they break apart, Donna adds, "I can't imagine what this must be like for you."

"Hell." Ruth says bluntly. She gives her a watery smile, and reaches out one hand to touch Josh's arm. "But thank god I've still got this one. He's not allowed to die until... Well, until I'm six feet under."

Josh nods, and smiles sadly. "You got it, mom."

Ruth's eyes widen as someone steps up behind Donna. "Jeff!" She flings herself at him for a hug, too.

"My uncle." Josh explains for her.

"Right." Donna says blankly. She notices that he doesn't seem overly eager to greet anyone else, unlike Ruth, who is talking behind them. She continues to watch him, while he looks at the stone floor, expression the same as it has been since she walked in. She quickly turns to look at Ruth, who is very much engaged in conversation with her brother-in-law, and makes a decision. She grabs his sleeve. "Come with me."

"What?"

"Come here." She pulls him with her into an alcove off the anterior room. He watches her with raised eyebrows as she drops his sleeve, but remains in close proximity to him.

He throws on a smile, which looks utterly foreign. "Listen, if this is an effort to cheer me up, I appreciate it, but now doesn't exactly seem the time or place to 'throw down,' so..."

She ignores him, and pulls him in for a hug. "I know you're trying to keep it together. For your mom, for everyone else. But not for me, okay? You don't have to."

He stands stiff in her embrace for a few moments, obviously uncomfortable. But eventually, he wraps his arms around her, too. She's almost surprised when he starts to shake.

"It's okay." She says softly, voice choked with fresh tears. She runs one hand gently over the back of his head. "Yeah. It's okay."

He tightens his grip on her, and buries his head in her hair. Eventually, he manages, "I'm glad you're here."

"I am too." And even though this moment is for him, it helps ease some of her own pain, just to be close to him.

"I know you really cared for him."

"Me? I did, but... God, he was your _father_."

Josh doesn't say anything after that. She doesn't ask anything more of him, just lets him hold onto her and let his guard down for a while. When he draws back, he runs a sleeve over his face hastily. "Thanks."

She takes his hand tenderly. "Any time."

"I'll see you out there."

"Yeah."

"You'll be at the reception?"

"Yeah."

He squeezes her hand and gives her half a smile before slipping out of her grasp, walls up. She waits a minute before following him. She finds a seat a few rows from the front, in the rapidly filling temple. A few minutes after three, Ruth and Josh process in, accompanied by Jeff and a few others.

The service is beautiful, but Donna can't help but zone in and out a little. She misses Noah tremendously, and there will always be a hole in her life going forward. But a memorial service isn't going to do anything to change that, whether for better or worse. She watches Josh. He doesn't seem to be listening much, either. He can't risk that, she knows. It would be too much.

She drives to their house for the reception. The poor little two story house is practically overflowing. Once inside, she meets countless people who were touched by Noah. She'd known she wasn't the only one, but the sheer volume of them is overwhelming. Former students, employees, and clients alike share with her their experiences with a man who for all his pretense of being gruff and crotchety, was one of the warmest people any of them had met.

One man describes how he'd been addicted to heroin while interning for Noah at Yale. Noah had told him in no uncertain terms that if he didn't get clean, he would personally see to it that he was kicked out of school and arrested. He even promised to prosecute his case. The man shows her his chip for being fifteen years sober.

A woman with a young daughter tells her how Noah had taken on her case when no one else would, after she had been drained of money by medical bills. A man who is revealed to be Josh's high school civics teacher describes his decades long friendship with Noah, whom he'd met at an eventful parent teacher conference. Noah had defended his upstart son with everything he had (not knowing that the man was actually quite fond of Josh), and he had learned where his student had gotten it from.

Jenny and Mallory, Leo McGarry's wife and daughter, talk of family friendship and someone they could always rely on. They express Leo's regrets that he couldn't be there in person.

The love in that house can barely fit, taking up far more room than any of the people.

Donna stays for hours, until the reception starts to wind down. She hadn't been able to get close to Ruth and Josh to say her goodbyes until then, as they were constantly surrounded by people who wanted to express their sympathies. She finally reaches them around eight, when people have started leaving. Ruth immediately wraps an arm around her waist.

"Donna. Are you leaving?"

"I think I might be."

"I'll see you again soon, won't I?"

"Of course. I don't plan to stop visiting any time soon."

"That's a relief. I do love your company."

"Back at you." Donna gives her a squeeze. "Since I'll be seeing you around, I won't do this now. I'll let the out-of-towners have their turn, and then we'll do ours later."

"Do our what?"

"Our 'this is what he meant to me'... Thing."

"Oh! Good. I can't possibly take another." Ruth tells her. "It'd be better to space them out. You're looking out for me."

"And me. I've cried in front of these people enough today."

That makes Ruth laugh a little. "That makes two of us."

"I'll stop by next week, okay? After everyone has cleared out."

"Sounds good."

"Let me know if you need anything before then, okay? Anything."

"I'll let you know." Ruth assures her. "But don't worry about me too much, okay? You're in the final stretch. Stay on top of your schoolwork."

"Of course."

"It's what he would've wanted."

Donna smiles. "You're right about that."

Ruth gives her one last squeeze. "I'll see you next week."

"Hang in there."

"I'm trying."

Someone else swoops in behind her to say their goodbye to Ruth, and Donna moves a step over to stand beside Josh. He looks exhausted. She gives him a long, searching look, not knowing how to even begin this goodbye.

"You're leaving?" He says finally.

"I think so."

"Huh."

She doesn't want to leave him. Not like this. "Unless..."

He straightens up. "Unless what?"

"Unless... I don't know."

He stares at her for a moment. Suddenly, he grabs her wrist. "Don't. Don't go."

"Okay."

"I, um. Stay. Stay here tonight."

"Okay."

He leans in close to her. "Wait for me upstairs. This shouldn't be much longer, I'll be up soon. You can, um. Borrow clothes."

She nods. "Okay."

"Okay." He repeats, seemingly surprised by her ready accord.

"I'll see you soon." She turns and walks away from him, threading her way through the crowd toward the staircase. She walks numbly upstairs. No one seems to notice her.

She walks down the hallway, past the door that was hers for a week. She turns in to the one that she knows to be Josh's, the biggest room at the end of the hall. There's a suitcase on the bed, but other than that, there are no signs that anyone is staying here.

Slowly, unsure of herself, she sits on the bed, and slips off her heels. She should be feeling something, she knows. But she can't seem to work up any sort of internal conflict about what she's doing. Josh needs her. And that's that.

She doesn't think he wants her - not like that. He just doesn't want to sleep alone. And having seen him today, she doesn't want him to either. It might help her not to, too.

After a few minutes of staring at the wall, she wills herself to open the suitcase. There isn't much inside. Work clothes, mostly. He'd probably just taken one he already had packed for the campaign trail, or else just packed on autopilot. She pads over to the dresser, hoping there is still a store of clothes there.

She slips her black dress over her head and exchanges it for an old Yale t-shirt, much like one she has, but a couple sizes bigger.

She lifts the suitcase off the bed and sits down, looking around her. Any other day, she might be intrigued and amused by the posters on the walls, the books on the shelves, the old baseball trophy. But now, as she stares at the wall's strange juxtaposition of JFK and Joe Strummer, she just feels a dull ache.

She crawls under the covers and sinks into the pillow, closing her eyes. He's been sleeping here for a couple days, and it smells like him. She stays like that, immobile, for an hour or so, trying vainly to clear her head.

When she hears footsteps in the hallway, she slips out of bed and greets him at the door. She closes the door behind him and wordlessly starts undressing him. Not like how she once did, fervently, but with care and tenderness. As she pushes his shirt off his shoulders, he takes her face in his hands and kisses her forehead.

He flips the lights off and climbs into bed with her, in his boxers. She curls close to him, and wraps one arm around his waist. He puts his around her as well, habitually beginning to toy with her hair.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Okay." She kisses his cheek and settles down again, allowing the silence and darkness to wash over them. She has to admit, it's a welcome change from the tiresome chatter they'd just left.

More than anything, he needs sleep, which she hopes to bring him. Mostly, she's successful. If, during the night, either of them is crying, neither mentions it.

Come morning, she redresses in her clothes from yesterday. He sits on the edge of the bed, watching her.

"I can come back tonight." She tells him.

The worry lines on his forehead disappear. "Thanks."

She goes to class in a vegetative state, and then back to her apartment for a few hours. She goes back to the house at around ten, when she figures Ruth will be asleep. Josh lets her in and she follows him upstairs, back to his room. They undress and stare at the ceiling again.

"I miss him." She says unnecessarily.

"I do too." He takes her hand. "There was so much I never got to... So much I wanted to tell him, and I... So much that I should've..."

"He knew." She says softly.

"Maybe." He says hollowly.

"He was so proud of you, Josh. God, you have no idea just how proud of you he was."

Come morning, he watches her get dressed again. The worry lines are firmer this time. "I'm leaving today." He tells her. "I've gotta get back to the campaign."

"Oh." She tries to keep her disappointment out of her voice. "Well, I guess you'd have to. You've been gone, what, a week?"

"Almost."

"Congratulations on Illinois, by the way. That's amazing."

He gives her the ghost of a smile. "Thanks."

"When will I... See you again?"

The smile disappears. "I have no idea."

"Oh. Okay."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"Good luck with the rest of your semester, and graduation. The bar."

"Thanks." He's just wished her luck on two months' worth of things. Will it really be that long before he comes back? Or perhaps he'll be back before then, but doesn't plan to see her. _But then, why would he?_ she realizes.

"I know you're going to do great."

"Thanks."

He pulls her into his arms one last time, and she tries to memorize what this feels like. These next few weeks will be rough ones, and she'll need this.

"Do good out there." She tells him. "Don't blow this."

"I'll try."

"But... Don't work too hard, okay? Don't lose yourself."

"I should tell you the same thing."

She leaves the house. Her suspicion proves to be true: she doesn't see him (except for on TV, occasionally), at all for two months.

She works too hard. She loses herself, a little.

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 **Phew, that was rough. But we've just got one more chapter and an epilogue to go, guys! I know things are looking bleak right now, but keep reading! Thanks for staying with me this far.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Ahhhhh omg can you believe it's ending? I can't. I'm so attached to this story, and by the sheer volume of feedback and support, I know you guys are too. It's been a wild ride, and I want to thank you for being there every step of the way. I'm truly blessed to have all of you in my life.**

 **I'm really glad you guys liked the last chapter. I know some of you were unsure about where it was going, but most of you seemed to like the way it turned out. I knew I didn't want them to rush into getting back together while they were both still so emotionally confused and grieving, but I also didn't want them to be cold and distant. I hope I found the right middle ground!**

 **Without further ado, here is the final chapter of The Prodigal Son (barring the epilogue, of course!)**

 **Thanks for everything, you guys. You never fail to amaze me with your love. I hope I earn it with this last installment.**

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 _Two months later_

Graduation comes hard won.

Donna knows many of her classmates who have decided to forego the ceremony, in an attempt to seem "mature," but they mostly come off as childish and "too cool for school." Donna never considers that. She'd worked too hard for this.

She'd requested nine tickets (for her three siblings, two in-laws, parents, and Ruth and Noah) back in January, and Noah had pulled some strings to acquire all of them for her. A few classmates had been asking around for extra tickets, but Donna simply didn't have the heart to give up the one she'd reserved for her former boss. The seat next to Ruth is achingly empty, but that's okay. It should be.

They ask that the audience hold its applause until all names have been called, but Ruth stands up and cheers with all her might when Donna's name is read. Her family members look between themselves uncertainly, but her brother Manny leads the charge to join her, and suddenly a whole row is standing up and cheering for her. Her parents beam bemusedly, clapping, her brothers whoop and whistle. Ruth jumps up and down.

She swears the Dean rolls his eyes when he shakes her hand, but she doesn't care. She beams, tears welling in her eyes at the display of pride. Hell, she feels pretty damn proud of herself right now.

She can't help but think about another ceremony, with all of the same people in the front row, that she had once very vaguely envisioned.

A few hours later, her graduation party is in full swing. She hadn't really wanted one, but Clarissa had insisted, and once her family arrived, there was no stopping them. They even managed to involve their whole floor - the apartment wasn't big enough to hold more than a few guests at a time, so the other kind volunteers opened their doors and allowed the party to spill down the entire hall.

Quite a few fellow law students show, as do some of Clarissa's med school classmates, and of course Donna's coworkers from the firm.

The food is good and the champagne is better, which Donna desperately needs as she heads into hour two of conversation with her older sister. Ava is complaining about her marital problems, which aren't really so much marital problems as they are Ava problems, like "I just don't think humans are supposed to mate for life, you know? It's unnatural!"

Donna is just starting to consider gagging her sister with her tassel when one of her law school classmates threads her way through the crowd toward her.

"Donna?"

"Yes?" Donna looks up, overly eagerly.

"There's this little old woman looking for you."

"Ruth!" She hops up from her chair, sloshing a little bit of her champagne onto the carpet. She winces.

"Who?" Ava asks.

"Be back in a minute!" Donna calls cheerfully, lying through her teeth.

She follows her classmate back down the hall toward her own apartment, which she barely recognizes between the throng of people and the decorations Clarissa had forcefully erected. Ruth sways in the doorway in time to the music pulsing through the air, a precarious stack of objects balanced in her arms.

"Ruth, hi!" Donna shouts over the music. She wraps one arm around her shoulders, and the older woman gives her a grin. "You've gotta lot of stuff there, can I take some of that off you?"

"Casserole." Ruth shouts back, shoving a foil covered dish into her arms. "Rolls," another, "and cake," one more. Now all that remains is a wrapped box, presumably a gift. Ruth maintains a tight grip on that.

"Wow. This is insane, Ruth. You didn't have to do all of this."

"Wanted to." She says kindly. "Besides. Keeps me busy."

"Well, I appreciate it. Thank you so much."

"Of course!" Ruth flattens the wrapping on the box. "Could we possibly go somewhere... Quieter?"

"Of course."

She pulls Ruth into the apartment with her, back towards her bedroom. "Manny!" She calls as they work through the living room. "Music down!"

Manny looks up from his intensive DJing and gives her a nod.

Donna stops off in the kitchen to deposit all of Ruth's cooking, and then forges bravely ahead to her room at the end of the hall. A few med students are in the doorway, talking animatedly.

"I'm sorry, could we have the room for a minute? Thank you." She closes the door behind them and lets out a sigh. She gives Ruth an exasperated smile. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be. You've earned a little revelry."

"Fair enough." Donna sinks onto the foot of her bed, and Ruth follows suit. "Alright. So. What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Well, not so much talk, as... I wanted to give you this." Ruth passes her the box. It's fairly heavy.

Donna starts to tear off the wrapping paper like a seasoned pro. She's unwrapped quite a few gifts today, from a new microwave, to, inexplicably, a stainless steel shower head. "Aw, you didn't have to get me anything."

"It's actually not from me." Ruth tells her with a soft smile. "It's from Noah."

Donna stops unwrapping, having uncovered a plain white box. She turns to look at Ruth in confusion, her breath hitching. "I... What?"

"It came to the house about a month ago, so I have to assume he ordered it some time ago. I would've given it to you then, but something told me he had today in mind." Her eyes twinkle. "Well, go ahead! Open it."

Donna lifts the top of the box off hesitantly. She stares down at the gift, tears welling unexpectedly in her eyes. He remembered.

"How..." She takes a deep breath. "How did you know it was for me? It could've been..."

Wordlessly, Ruth reaches over and lifts up the front flap of the beautiful, hand crafted brief case. Embossed there are the letters _DM_.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 _One week later_

"Is the kitchen okay?"

"Yes, if you could just set them on the table. That's perfect. Thank you."

"No problem." Donna hefts the final carton of Noah's things onto the table. From within, Noah's smiling face stares up at her from multiple pictures. One, next to Leo and several other of their brothers-in-arms, leaning against a chopper. In another, he beams at Josh's law school graduation.

"It was nice of you to do this. I don't think I could've done it myself."

"It's no trouble." Donna says, though that isn't entirely true. Packing up his medal, his degrees. His family photos. A signed baseball in a glass case - he's probably told her a million times whose signature it is, but she still can't remember. It was all hard. She left his "desperate times" whiskey reserve in tact. She figured the new head of operations, Phil, might enjoy the surprise. "The office looks... Strange, now."

Ruth puts a hand on her back. "I'm sure."

"Feels strange, too."

"He would've wanted the office to be used. Would've hated having it like a shrine for as long as it was, actually." She smiles sadly.

"I guess you're right."

"How's Phil getting on?"

"He's good. Adjusting, I guess. He's not used to telling so many people what to do."

"He'll get there."

"Maybe."

Ruth watches her as she shrugs listlessly. There's something off about her, she knows. There has been for some time. "Is there something on your mind, dear?"

"Hm? Oh, no. Nothing in particular, I guess. A lot of things."

"Well, how about we talk through them?" Ruth invitingly pulls out one of the kitchen table chairs. "Help to sort out your thoughts."

"Oh, I don't want to impose-"

"Nonsense. Sit down." Ruth says, more commandingly this time. Donna's eyes widen, and she does as told. Though rarely directed at her, Donna has seen Ruth's authoritative mode enough times to know not to disobey. This is the side of her that kept Noah and Josh in line all those years, after all.

Ruth reverts to smiling sweetly. "I'll get some tea."

"You don't have to-"

"I'd imagine you're at something of a crossroads." Ruth interrupts her calmly, bustling around getting mugs and filling the kettle.

Donna turns to stare at her. _I guess we're jumping right in, then._ "I guess I am."

"Phil is still offering you a permanent position, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he is. He wouldn't go back on Noah's offer."

"But you're not sure you want to stay anymore, are you?"

"I..." Donna trails off, gaze falling guiltily down to the table. "I know I _should_ want to. It's been my plan, after all. My 'great roadmap' I've been following, you know. And the firm's given me so much - you guys have given me so much-"

"It's not a betrayal to be thinking of leaving."

"Isn't it?"

"The firm isn't the same anymore."

"It's not." Donna confirms quietly. "Phil's trying, but it's just... Not the same."

"Noah never really intended it to grow so far beyond himself. I think that's why he stuck his last name on it. He envisioned, some day, a family practice. His son taking over." Ruth says.

"How 'Godfather' of him." Donna inputs, hiding how interested she is in this story.

"That stupid movie!" Ruth chuckles. "Anyway, that dream went to hell when Josh was maybe thirteen or fourteen. Leo McGarry came over for dinner one night, talking about the work he was doing for the Governor's campaign, and... That was it. You couldn't keep him away from politics after that."

"Noah must've been disappointed."

"Maybe a little. But how can you be disappointed when you see your kid's face light up like that? When he studies constantly, without being forced? He had a dream, and he had drive. And damned if either of us was going to stop him."

"Right." Donna agrees softly. She'd seen that passion in him. She'd even felt it stirring in herself, lately. She's always had an abundance of passion - her many majors and frequent stumbles weren't the result of a lack of interest, but of too many interests. She loved everything. When she went back, she was determined to stick with one thing, but she'd felt stirrings outside of it, nonetheless. She just learned to ignore them.

"The hope went up when he went to law school, but, I mean, you've met him. You spend five minutes with the kid and you know he's not a lawyer."

Donna laughs at that. "That's true."

"But never mind any of that! Let's get back to you." She says determinedly. "You've just graduated. It's natural to be restless."

"It is?" Donna asks hopefully. Maybe that's all this is. Restless energy.

"Of course!" Ruth settles down at the table with two mugs of tea. "Here you go. But, dear, I have to ask... Is there maybe something else going on?"

"Something... Else?"

"Aside from the changes at the firm, and graduating, and being unsure of your career path... Is there something else that's making this decision harder?"

Donna blinks at her. "How'd you know?"

"Oh, you've got lovesick written all over you, dear."

Donna blushes, and props her head on a hand. "Is it that obvious?" She groans.

"Only to the most observant among us."

"I hate this! I had a plan! A great plan! And I'm not supposed to abandon it for... Some guy. That's what happened the first time, and I can't let that happen again."

"But you have to admit, this is a little different, isn't it? You've got the degree this time. Two, actually. Now is the time to take risks."

"I don't know, I..." She hesitates. "I shouldn't be worrying you with all of this, Ruth. My problems are trivial when compared to-"

"Oh for god's sake! Ever since Noah died, everyone feels like they're not allowed to tell me about their problems. Like they'll seem ungrateful. But honestly! I'm dying for some gossip." That makes Donna laugh a little. "It was the same when Joanie died. But you know what really helps? Being treated like normal. Getting to hear about other people's lives, for once. I'm suffocating here - it's all me, all the time. Horrible."

Donna gives her a weak smile. "Okay. If you're asking."

"I'm begging at this point, dear."

"Right." Donna sighs, and takes a sip of her tea. "I think I'm in love." She says balefully.

"You think?"

"I... Maybe more than think. I don't know, it's been so long since I last was, and I don't trust myself anymore, you know? But I... Really think I am." She shrugs listlessly. "I can't stop thinking about him. My whole body aches, not being around him."

She's been obsessively watching CSPAN for glimpses of him. She gauges whether he looks tired, happy, healthy. She tortures herself with the various women she sees him with. She applauds all of his triumphs, and mourns each of the campaign's pitfalls. She lives and dies with the Bartlet for America campaign. And she does it all without ever picking up the phone, and telling him this.

"That sounds like love to me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Ruth's eyes sparkle knowingly.

"It's not even just when I'm alone, either. It's when I'm doing stupid things. Studying, doing dishes, out with friends, whatever. I just think about how much better it would be if he were here."

"If there's ever been a time to close the distance, this is it, you know."

"That's just it, though. It goes against everything I've come to believe in. I need to do things for me. Not for some guy, you know?"

"I do know." Ruth pauses. "How in jeopardy would your career be, if you were to be with him?"

"It would be... I don't know. It would change direction, that's for sure." Donna says vaguely. That's a whole other side of it: she would love to work on a campaign. The idea thrills her. But she doesn't want to join one just because of Josh, and she certainly doesn't want to get the job because of him.

"Another risk."

"Yes."

"God, you've really built yourself a little life wrapped in bubble wrap here, haven't you?"

Donna looks up at her. "What?"

"I mean, you've got it all figured out. You've got it so that you don't have to risk anything - professional, personal. Very practical."

Donna's lower lip protrudes in hurt. "I'm not-"

"That's not a judgment. You had a lot you needed to protect yourself from, I know. But now? Don't you think it's time?"

"I don't know."

"You'll never have anything you want if you don't put yourself out there for it. You need to trust yourself for once, Donnatella. I promise you that you're worth trusting."

Donna is taken aback by Ruth's flood of motherly advice. She isn't just idly agreeing with Donna's concerns, as her own mother might, but truly pushing her toward what thrills, and terrifies her, the most. Maybe it's what she needs. Hell, maybe it's what she wanted.

Just before she opens her mouth to reply, Ruth adds softly, "And I'm not just saying that because I'd love to have you as a daughter-in-law."

Donna takes a moment to process her words, and when she does, her jaw drops. "You... You knew?" She splutters. Mortification colors her face beet red.

"I may have been grieving, but I wasn't so out of it that I didn't notice your car in the driveway the nights Josh was here for the funeral." Ruth chances a slight smile. "I didn't mind. He was holding the pieces together for me, I was glad someone was there to do it for him."

"I... Oh my god." Donna buries her head in her hands. "Oh my god."

"And I had started to suspect before then, anyhow."

"Oh _god_."

"Oh, come now, it's not that bad. I'm all for it, honestly!"

"I told you my whole body aches!" Donna groans, muffled.

"I'm glad that he has someone who cares so much for him."

"This is horrible. I should just die, right here."

Ruth chuckles. "Donnatella. Pick your head up."

The commanding tone is back. Donna hesitantly raises her head, face like a beacon. "What?"

"I really think he feels the same way."

"You... Do?"

"I mean, it's not like he'd ever say anything to me. But for what it's worth? I've never seen my son look at someone the way he looks at you."

Donna's heart starts to pick up speed. "But... It's been two months, who knows if-"

"That's part of that whole 'risk factor' we discussed."

"I hate that part."

"Donna, I know you're trying desperately to be independent, and to do right by yourself. And you've done so well so far. But can I tell you something?"

"What?"

"Sometimes being true to yourself means working hard, and achieving your goals. Sometimes it means being on your own. But sometimes? It means being with the people you love." In her voice are the things she doesn't need to say: _If I could have just one more day with the man I loved..._

"I..."

"You're not living any kind of authentic life, plan or no plan, if it means denying yourself the person you love."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 _Three days later_

"This is an impressive résumé, for a new graduate. Very impressive."

"Thank you, sir."

"Internships, volunteering, study abroad, high grades... I'm very impressed."

"Thank you."

Leo McGarry sets her papers down decisively and gives her one of his crooked grins. "Okay! You're hired."

"I... Am?"

"Yes! Of course, of course. The interview was just a formality."

Donna furrows her brow, beginning to form suspicions. "You didn't really interview me."

"I'm a busy man. And, I didn't need to."

"Sir..." She leans forward, her stomach beginning to twist. It was already in knots when she walked in, tightly clutching her beautiful brief case and looking around fervently. As she'd settled into the office, however, she began to relax. "I don't want you to just give me this job because of Josh."

Leo looks up in surprise. He gives her an incredulous look over the top of his glasses. "Because of Josh?"

"I don't know what he's told you, but..."

"I'm not giving it to you because of Josh." Leo snorts. "Could care less about the kid's personal life! Jesus, what am I, a camp counselor?"

"I'm sorry, I-"

"I'm giving you the job because of Noah!" Leo says enthusiastically.

"Because of Noah, sir?" She inquires, unsure she'd heard him correctly.

"Yeah! He faxed this to me three months ago." He shuffles some papers around on his desk before finding one with a sticky note that reads _Donna, 3pm_ \- the time of her interview. "I read it again today. Here, you can take a look."

He passes Donna the piece of paper. She starts to read, and before she's even two sentences in she starts to tear up.

It's a letter of recommendation. It's a _glowing_ letter of recommendation, actually.

"I was sorry I couldn't go to the funeral." Leo says as she reads. "But I couldn't exactly take off, you know, because my second in command... Was also in Connecticut." He smiles sadly. "He was a great man. And a great friend."

Donna can't do much more than nod, brushing aside the tears that fall down her cheeks. Finally, she looks up, still bathed in the warmth of Noah's words. "I don't..."

"He doesn't say those things about just anybody, you know. He's hard won."

"I don't understand. How did he know I'd..."

"Here." Leo hands her one other thing. "This was attached."

Donna takes the piece of paper, which contains a significantly shorter note.

 _Leo,_

 _You should hire this girl! The only reason I am even thinking about the possibility of allowing you to have her is that one day, I would very much like to have grandchildren._

 _Best,_

 _Noah._

Donna laughs out loud. "I can't believe he sent this to you."

"I thought it was strange at the time, too. But when you called and asked for an interview, it clicked. He was right, you'd come eventually."

She hates that he's right. "I guess so."

"So! That settles that. You can start today." Leo barely gives her any time to breathe. "MARGARET."

A skittish redhead sticks her head around the doorframe, as if she'd already been just on the other side of it. Donna had noticed her scoping her out surreptitiously when she came in, too. "Yes?"

"Could you get CJ?"

"CJ!" Margaret bellows.

"Well, I could've done that." Leo grumbles. Donna smiles - she can see the qualities in him that would make he and Noah compatible.

A tall, lean woman with curly hair appears at the door, looking a tad harassed. Donna nearly has a fan attack at the sight of her - she greatly admires the campaign spokeswoman, and the grace with which she does her utterly ungraceful job. "What?"

"I'm hiring someone. I want you to show her the ropes."

"Who?" CJ looks around blankly, and her eyes alight on Donna. "Her?"

"Donna, we're going to try you out in communications, okay? Can always move you later." He says to Donna first. She tries not to get whiplash from the speed this interaction is going. "CJ, this is Donna Moss. The one that used to work for Noah Lyman, you know? Stick her with Sam and Toby. Policy stuff, probably. Maybe spin."

CJ has stopped listening to him, her eyes going wide. "The girl from Connecticut?"

"I'm sorry?" Donna twists around to look at her.

"It's just, that's what we've been calling you." CJ says in a rush. "'The girl from Connecticut'."

"I'm actually from Wisconsin, but that's... Wait, you've been talking about me?"

"I never thought I'd get to meet you!" CJ enthuses. She looks Donna over once more, this time with increased appreciation. "Well, _damn_ , okay, Josh."

"What?"

"Nothing. Just surprised idiot boy could pull someone like you." CJ laughs, and it's infectious. "C'mon, he's leading a staff meeting right now. Let's go freak him out!"

"What?"

"Josh! He's going to flip when he sees you. I've been so hoping for this moment."

Donna looks back to Leo, who nods encouragingly. "I don't know about the other thing, but you should go to the staff meeting. Take an ID tag on your way out." He gestures to a few tags dangling on a hook on his wall.

Evidently, he's not going to save her. Heart hammering in her throat, Donna stands and takes one of the ID tags. She loops it around her neck with shaking fingers. She's about to see him - _right now_. This is all happening so fast. She hasn't been near him in two months, and she doesn't feel nearly prepared for this.

"I'm CJ, by the way." CJ offers as she leads Donna down the hallway.

"I know." Donna lets herself be distracted for a minute. "I'm actually a pretty big fan."

"Oh yeah?" CJ's eyes light up.

"Honestly? Your press conferences are like gold."

CJ can't help a toothy grin. "Hey, thanks. Always nice to meet a fan." She leads her into an open room. "Okay, shh. This is going to be so fun."

Donna's breath comes to a halt. There he is. He's at the front of the room, obviously lecturing or leading the large group of assembled staffers. He obviously doesn't have high profile meetings today, because he's dressed down in jeans and what she swears is the Yale t-shirt she'd slept in a few months ago. He moves his arms too much and paces a little, his ever present nervous energy carrying him.

"Ok, so, CJ's controlling this health care story, we've got Sam and Toby on the new version of the stump, and hopefully an answer to that teachers question, Liam, you're on venues, Clara, debate prep... Can we get someone else on that? We've gotta have something by tonight." Someone raises a hand. "Luke, great. Okay, we've got a strategy meeting with Leo after this, you know who you are, and Mandy's gonna have something for us on military action? Yeah? Great. And Tom, I want you doing damage control for the thing last night, make sure it keeps blowing over. Call your guy at the Post, okay?"

Someone throws a basketball at him, and he fumbles only a little before catching it and passing it blindly to someone else. It continues to bounce around the room from staffer to staffer. Donna notices a familiar face, Sam, and one she's never seen in person but knows of from her CSPAN stalking, Toby Ziegler.

"The rest of you, I need a head count on our delegates as is. I think Pennsylvania's moving. God, I can't believe we missed that, you know? Should've been a full swing, right? It's that damn coal line he kept using, which I fucking _helped_ him with, and..." He trails off, exhaling loudly. He squints at the other staffers. "What was I saying?"

The staffers titter. Donna's heart twinges affectionately at the familiarity of his behavior. By the looks of things, everyone else in the room is accustomed to this as well.

"Delegates!" Someone supplies from the back of the room.

"Right! Thank you, Jeremy." He claps his hands together. "Okay, I think that's... It? Probably? Might think of something in five minutes. Other than that... Any questions?"

Donna doesn't know what overtakes her at that moment. It's one of her radical impulses. But, as is attested to by the fact that she's standing here, she's been giving into those more and more lately. She raises her hand. "I have a question."

All eyes turn to her, but she isn't watching them. She watches his face. He does that spacy thing that he does where he takes a few seconds to look at her, but when he does, it's priceless. His eyes go wide, and his arms fall slack to his sides. His mouth opens a centimeter.

She smiles. "Yeah... Are you always this hard to follow? Or is today just an off day?"

A grin starts to spread across his face.

"Because your staff seem to be with it, but I don't know if I can do this every-"

"What the hell are you doing here?" He interrupts her, his grin now in full force.

With an innocent smile, she holds up her ID tag. "I work here."

CJ chuckles behind her at his expression. Across the room, Sam shouts, "Okay, everybody, meeting adjourned."

A few staffers go back to their tasks, but most linger, wanting to see how this interaction plays out. Donna doesn't notice, or care. She just holds his gaze. In a few quick steps, he's crushing her to him. She laughs, giddy, and feels like her face might actually split in two with the force of her smile.

She holds him with equal force, allowing him to lift her a few inches off the ground before setting her back down, and swaying there with her in the middle of the office. She reaches up one hand to run through the curls on the back of his head. The familiar bliss comes crashing down around her, and for the first time in months, she feels unmistakably _whole_.

"I.. I can't believe..." He starts.

"I know." She says, her voice lilting dangerously with joy. She doesn't need to look at him to know that his smile is as wide as hers.

They don't break apart of their own volition. Instead, a gruff voice brings them back to reality. "CJ said you work for me. So, let's get a move on."

Donna pulls back hesitantly to look at the speaker. "Oh, I..."

"Toby!" CJ admonishes. "Can't you see they're having a moment? Give the poor girl some time."

"Yes, because we've got plenty of that around here." Toby grumbles.

Over his shoulder, Sam gives a wave. "Hi Donna!"

"Hi, Sam." She gives him a smile.

Somewhere in the distance, an irritable looking short woman with short brown curls kicks at a stray soda can. "You've got to be _kidding_ me."

"How've you been?" Sam says over her.

"Good, you?"

"Good."

"Why are you all standing here?" Josh asks. He looks around for the first time. "Hey, all of you, get back to work!"

Donna stifles a laugh. "Very intimidating."

Josh shrugs. He reverts back to staring at her, gaze warm.

"You have five minutes." Toby warns her, and stalks off. Donna watches him go, bewildered. CJ and Sam follow reluctantly.

"That was great, by the way!" CJ tells her on her way past, referring to how floored Josh had been.

They turn slowly back to each other. At first, all they can seem to do is stare, cataloging all the little differences in each other that they hadn't had time to notice yet. Finally, Donna says, "So... You got an office around here?"

"Right." He grabs her wrist and pulls her back down the hallway she'd come from, the eyes of the office following them out. He turns into a door before they reach Leo's, and closes the door behind them.

Whereas he hadn't been able to control himself before, he now seems almost wary of touching her. He fumbles for a minute before folding his arms. He settles on, "how have you been?"

"I... I don't know." She stammers. _Good, I graduated. Bad, I haven't been with you_.

"...okay?"

"You?" She says quickly.

She's already given him the perfect answer. He smirks. "I don't know."

She rolls her eyes. "Really."

"Really. Since my dad died and we broke up, I've been on the up and up." She winces visibly. "Hey, I'm sorry. That was a joke."

"That's okay."

"Listen, I heard you graduated. My mom told me she went."

Donna smiles. "Yeah, she did. Cheered louder than anyone else on the lawn."

"Yeah, she does that." He says fondly. "Congratulations."

"Thanks." She clears her throat. "Congratulations are in order for you too, you know. Eight states? That's something."

He shrugs. "It's not nothing."

"Really, I'm thrilled to be a part of this. What you guys are doing is amazing."

"Thanks."

They revert back to staring at each other. Josh seems to be considering something, so she waits for him to speak. Eventually, he throws on another smirk, but this one is forced. "So, listen, I don't know where we stand, but if you joined this campaign just to torture me-"

She surges forward, cutting him off with a sound kiss. It's meant to be a one-off, but she'd forgotten how addicting this is. They rapidly melt into each other, hands finding new ways to tug each other closer. She pulls back gasping. "Answer your question?"

"Much clearer, thanks." He starts to kiss her again, but she jerks her head back.

"Wait."

"What is it?"

"It's _not_ much clearer, actually. I want to talk about this."

He raises an eyebrow. "You do?"

She shakes her head, smiling. "I know, strange, isn't it?"

"Very." He settles more comfortably into their position, without allowing space between them. He keeps his arms around her waist, but at enough of a distance to see each other clearly. "What do you think? Should we just... Pick up where we left off?"

"Where'd we leave off?"

He gives her an exasperated smile. "After our first date."

"I guess we did. But that's not really the half of it, is it?"

His expression sobers. She's right. There'd been so much before, and after that. A first date barely scratches the surface. "No. It isn't."

"So, what, we just start on our second date and act like none of that happened?"

"No, we start on our second date very much aware that all of that happened." He corrects her. "Hopefully tonight. I don't know, are you free?"

She grins. "I hope so. I don't know, my boss seems kind of erratic."

"Toby? Eh. He'll grow on you."

He starts to lean in to kiss her again, but she stills him one more time. She isn't done yet. It's time to take the leap, she knows. Today's been full of them, and she doesn't see the point in stopping now. "I need to tell you something."

"What?" He looks at her in concern. She doesn't blame him - she's hit him with enough bad news in the past.

"I think... I mean, theses past two months I've come to realize... Ah, shit." She lifts one hand to her forehead and rubs it frustratedly. "Oh, what the hell? I love you. There."

He stares at her.

She continues nervously, "You don't have to say anything back. I know I sort of sprung... A lot of stuff on you today. It's just, you told me before you were invested, and I didn't say anything, and I've always been the one to add more rules, and distance, so I thought it was only fair that now you know that I'm-"

"Donna."

"-all in." She blinks, looking up at him hazily. Without her noticing, he'd raised a hand to her chin, and is tilting her face toward him, his eyes searching hers with faint amusement. "What?"

"You really never stop talking, do you?"

She glares at him. "Hey, if-"

"I love you too."

Her glare fades instantly. "You... Do?"

"'Course I do. These past few months have really hammered it home for me, you know? I didn't want to be the one to call. Not after what happened, but now, I know... It's just not the same when I don't have you. None of this is worth it without you." He says hoarsely, the truth of his words seeping into his voice. "I didn't think it was possible for me to miss someone that much."

"These past two months have been pretty miserable."

"The worst." He agrees. He starts to thread his fingers through her hair, up to her scalp.

She bites her lip. "I really do love you."

"I love you too." He confirms.

"I'm sorry I didn't realize it sooner."

"Hey, I'm sorry too."

With nothing left to say that's more pressing than what they're about to do, they finally meet in another kiss. It's more tender than their first. It's almost surreal, the feeling of completion that washes over her. Every bit of restlessness and malaise leaves her body.

Ruth was right. Right now, she's being true to herself.

They're jolted from their moment by Toby, yet again. He taps on the door. "Five minutes are up!"

They pull back, laughing breathlessly, and rest their foreheads against one another.

"I guess... I'll see you." She says reluctantly.

For a moment, she thinks he'll evoke their old joke. 'No, you won't!' But he doesn't. "Yes. You definitely will."

"Don't know how this second date is going to live up to the first."

"You underestimate me."

She grins, ducking out the door. She's quite possibly hovering a few inches above the ground.

This is it, she knows. This is where her great road map ends, and some truly thrilling off-roading begins.

And yet, as she thinks of Noah's letter, his graduation gift, his final words to her... she knows that she won't be without guide posts.

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 **And that's a wrap!**

 **Please let me know what you think, and look out for the epilogue sometime soon. I'll discuss possible future spin-offs/sequels/companion stories in the A/N there!**

 **Love you guys!**

 **Oh and did you guys catch that little bit about the briefcase in chapter one? ;) It came back!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm back from Morocco :) It was beautiful and amazing and crazy and perfect. I'm pretty much set on returning there for my honeymoon. Thanks so much to everyone who wished me a happy/safe trip! You're all so sweet.**

 **Before I left, I asked what you guys most wanted to see updated when I came back. An epilogue for this fic was the overwhelming winner. So, here we are! After this, it's probably a chapter for _Orphan Collective_ or _EDC_ next, we'll see. I've also got another idea for a fic that's kind of out there that I'll include at the end of this chapter to see what you guys think, along with some other questions.**

 **Without further ado, here's the final piece of _Prodigal Son!_ I hope you enjoy :) **

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A small boy toddles up the steep grassy hill at full tilt. His beleaguered father follows behind.

"Which one?" The boy, three, asks once they crest it.

His father slows behind him and bends to put his hands on his shoulders. He tilts him thirty degrees. "That one."

The little boy bounds forward with the same vigor of before. He stops abruptly in front of the stone. "No... Noah..." He furrows his brow in concentration. Only two months into his first year of preschool, he isn't exactly literate yet, but the stone bears the one thing he's known how to read and write since last year. "That's my name!"

Josh smiles. "Yeah."

"Why?"

"Well, you were named after your grandfather, remember bud? So that's his name too."

"Oh." Noah touches his mouth. "His stone?"

"His stone. Not yours."

"Okay."

"Because you're not dead."

"Right. I not dead."

Josh holds back a laugh and sinks into the grass in front of his father's gravestone. He pulls his own son into his lap. "This is where your grandfather is buried."

"In the dirt?"

"Yeah, in the dirt."

"I meet him?"

"No, you never met him. He died before you were born."

"Oh." Noah pouts slightly. "That sad."

"It sure is, kid. He would've loved to meet you. You have no idea."

"I meet him now?"

"Um." Josh hesitates. "I guess. It's kinda like you're meeting him now."

Noah smiles. "Hi grandpa!"

Josh runs a hand over his son's head fondly. "I'm sure he's saying hi back," he says, slightly choked up.

"Is he like other grandpa?"

"They have certain similarities, you could say."

"Why we never come here before?"

"Well, bud..." He sighs. "The truth is, I haven't really wanted to. But, well, your mom, and then your grandma, they've been talking about how I should, and you know when they team up..."

"Why you not wanna come?"

"Um. Well, it's..."

"Make you sad?"

Josh swallows. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Oh."

"I miss him a lot. He was my dad, after all."

"Like you?"

"Yeah. Like how I'm your dad, he was mine."

"Oh." Noah's lower lip starts to protrude again. "I don't want you die."

"You don't have to worry about that, kid. Not for a long time, okay?"

"Okay."

"I mean it. I'm not going anywhere, any time soon. I can't be killed. Remember when I was shot? Yeah, I lived. I'm invincible." He squeezes Noah's sides to get him to laugh. He succeeds.

"Like superman?"

"Exactly like that."

Noah grows quiet, serious once more. "How he die?"

"He was very sick. He had cancer."

"Oh."

Josh rests his forehead on the top of his son's head, glad to have someone else there to distract him. Eventually, Noah starts to grow restless, as he's prone to do.

"I go play?"

Josh lets go of him reluctantly. "Sure. Stay where I can see you."

Noah trots off happily, running through the gravestones easily. Josh should perhaps reprimand him for being disrespectful, but honestly, he can't see the benefit in telling a toddler that he can't be happy here. He likes that he isn't weighed down by the connotations of this place yet.

The truth is, Josh has been avoiding this moment for five years. He hadn't been alone at his father's gravesite, since... Well, ever. His mother constantly extolled the release it gave her to visit weekly and talk to her husband. But whenever she managed to wrangle Josh into a trip there while he was in Connecticut, he hung back. He would mutter only "Hi, dad," if she elbowed him. When she moved to Florida, he stopped going altogether.

On one level, maybe he just didn't believe that talking to a gravestone held any purpose or meaning. He wasn't sure he believed his father could hear him, and if he could, why should the reception be stronger here than in, say, DC? On another level, he knew that wasn't the point for many people.

His reluctance didn't really have anything to do with that. Mostly, it had to do with how much he hates to be alone with his grief. He could avoid it, most days, hide behind countless meetings and a whole, smiling family. But faced with the marker of his father's remains, he can't hide from any of it.

He sighs. "Hi, dad." He starts. Hopefully he'll get farther than that this time. He clears his throat. "I, um... It's been a while." He smiles sheepishly.

After a moment, he rests his head heavily on a hand. "This is stupid." He mutters.

But, he had promised her he'd try.

He lifts his head. "Okay. Fine. Fine, lets talk."

He ponders what to say first. "I guess I should catch you up on what's been going on. In case you don't... Know. Or, I guess mom probably would've told you. I don't know. Anyway, um... We won the election." He starts lamely. "You know... Twice." Their semi-recent victory brings a smile to his face.

A faint breeze drifts through the graveyard, reminding them that Autumn is just around the corner.

"Work is good. It's good, really. And I'm not too wrapped up in it, at least I don't think so, which I know you were always concerned about. I feel... I don't know, balanced, I guess. You always talked about being balanced, remember? You were pretty good at that when I was a kid. Most of the time." There had been a time, sure, when Noah had buried himself in work. His house had felt empty, his life had been ransacked and robbed. Josh never blamed him for wanting to find something to fill that void. Hell, he'd done it too. "I'm pretty okay at it, too. You taught me that."

He watches his son jump, trying to catch a stray leaf on the breeze.

"We saved you a seat at the wedding." He tells the stone. "It was her idea, not mine, but I gotta admit... It seemed right. A space for you next to mom."

He swallows painfully. That had been one of the happiest days of his life, but there had been a distinct hole. She'd been right to acknowledge it.

"So, yeah, right, I got married. You probably inferred that from the kid. Maybe you didn't. I don't know. Anyway." He sighs. "You just met Noah. Our first. I could just see your face, you know, when we decided to name him after you. All smug and prideful, trying to pretend you weren't touched."

His smile fades. The stone doesn't say anything. It just stares back at him, grey and imposing. Firm and immovable - like a pillar, his father might say. He can certainly see the likeness.

"I almost came to join you, you know. A few years ago. Forgive me for saying I'm glad I didn't. I've still got a lot to do here, you know. So much. And yet...

"I miss you, dad." He says plaintively. Immediately thereafter, he looks around, as if to see if anyone heard. There's no one nearby, aside from his oblivious toddler. He shakes his head, looking down at his lap. "Stupid." He mutters again.

He spends the next five minutes in silence, thinking of all the things he wants to tell his father that he will never be able to vocalize. For example, _Wh_ _at's with dying on the night of the Illinois primary? Way to steal my thunder, you old bastard._ His dad would've laughed at that, he knew.

And: _Why_ _do you always have to be right?_ Even in death, he probably looked down, laughing as his words rang true, weeks or months or years later.

Finally: _E_ _verything I do, I try to do the way you would do it._ Fatherhood, marriage. Everything.

He's interrupted by the soft crunching of leaves behind him, and doesn't need to turn around to know who's coming up the hill. A minute later, a hand rakes softly through his hair. "Hey."

"Hey."

"How's it going?"

"I sill think this is dumb."

"Well, I don't." Donna says cheerfully, sinking onto her knees beside him. On one hip, she holds a small baby.

Josh holds out his hands for her, and Donna passes her over. "She okay?"

"Yeah, just needed a change."

"Hm." He fully suspects that his wife had completely made up Elise's 'fussing' to give him some time alone with his father.

Donna brushes aside some loose hair and gives the stone an easy smile. "Hello, sir."

Josh smiles as he bounces his six-month-old gently. "You probably wouldn't be calling him that anymore."

"It's respectful." She maintains. "I assume you've already met your grandson." She directs this to the stone.

"They exchanged a few words."

"Yeah, the verbal thing is very come and go with him. But then, it was with you too, sir." She jokes. "Anyway, this is your granddaughter! Elise."

Josh helpfully turns his daughter toward the stone, humoring his wife.

"You would love her." She tells the granite slab. "And Noah. I know you would. What with how much you were constantly talking about Josh's refusal to give you grandchildren-"

"Sitting right here, dear."

"-I know you really wanted them." She finishes. "And they would love you, rest assured. You're a very... Soothing presence."

"Soothing. Sure. That's the word I'd use too."

Donna ignores him. "Anyway, I can tell you that we miss you a lot. Me, Josh, definitely your wife. She's taking swing dance lessons by herself. Kinda cool, kinda sad. She's sure you'd mock her for it, but she also says you'd better be practicing for when she gets up there."

From beside her, Josh suddenly pushes the baby back toward her, his eyes across the grounds. "Noah, no, do _not_ eat that!"

In an instant, she's left alone at the gravesite, with only her infant daughter for company.

She hadn't planned on this. As much as she had encouraged Josh to spend time with his grief, she hadn't exactly been practicing what she preached. Whereas this had been easy a moment ago, babbling to lighten the moment and amuse her husband, suddenly she has no one left to distract her.

There's so much she could say.

A million moments swirl in her mind. From the letter of recommendation, to the briefcase, to the wedding he should've been at. From the inauguration, to her promotion, to the high pressure moments at work when she'd thought back to words he'd given her years before.

Her eyes fill slowly with tears, staring at the oppressive gray stone. He deserves a monument.

She reaches out a hand tentatively to touch one corner. She whispers, "Thanks, boss."

That's enough.

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 **And that's a wrap! I hope you guys liked it. This story has become very close to my heart, and I'm almost sad to see it go. But that brings me to a question...**

 **Many of you have expressed your desire to see this story expanded, or to see me write in this universe again. I love your enthusiasm, but I feel like the story is whole and complete as it is now. That's not to say I'm averse to writing in this AU again - I'm just out of ideas for it. What did you guys have in mind?**

 **Secondly, I've got an idea I wanted to run by you for an AU I think is kind of fun. Okay: Joanie lives and becomes a professor/conductor of student orchestras at Juilliard, where she befriends her young neighbor, Donna, a graduate student in the acting program (Juilliard may not have had this program at the time but just roll with me here). Her brother comes to town, and, ya know, shenanigans ensue. In this AU, Donnna went back to college, but decided to stick with the theatre major she mentioned briefly in ITSOTG.**

 **Slight spoiler: she's very successful.**

 **I've kind of fallen in love with this idea, especially since this story warmed my heart to Josh having more living family members, and I want to know what you guys think. I still plan to continue _EDC_ , and feel I could work on two long-haul fics at once without too much trouble. What do you guys think? Interested in reading that at all?**

 **Let me know what you think!**

 **P.S. I've missed you guys so much :)**


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